When Words Aren't Enough
by Manu
Summary: After a small incident in a girls' bathroom, Ron and Hermione try desperately to gets their friendship back to the way it used to be. They fail miserably. *Yes, I HAVE posted chapter 7. Amazing*
1. To be a good friend

DISCLAIMER: Don't wish upon a star. I'm telling you, it doesn't work. I've wished about a million times for the HP characters to be mine, but nope, they're still J. K. Rowling's.

A/N: Well, I don't really have much to say. The story is set in the middle or the trio's fifth year (let's say, around December), and Voldemort hasn't tried to attack ever since the end of fourth year. He's... um... trying to gather more followers or something. People try their best not to mention him in Hogwarts, so that's why he's not mentioned at all. =0) Anyway, hope you enjoy.

                                                                                                   *

"So, Harry, fancy a game of chess?"

Harry Potter looked up from his History of Magic essay to meet the freckled face of his best friend, Ron Weasley.

"What? Your game with Hermione's already ended?" he asked surprised, seeing that it was hardly ten minutes since it had started.

Ron grinned. "Pretty much. For a smart girl, Hermione can be extremely stupid sometimes. Left her queen right it the path of my knight. And you know how my knight is, don't you?"

Hermione Granger, who has still sitting across from Ron, scowled. "I had to!"

"Oh, really?" Ron said and analyzed the board. "Yeah, I guess so. You had to sacrifice your queen, so you could spare your… rook. Your logic's amazing."

"You know how attached I am to that rook!" she protested.

"Then you should just marry it," Ron retorted. "I'm sure it's a much better catch than Krum, anyway."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why can't you leave me alone about him?"

"Because he's a stupid git!"

Harry heard Hermione start to give Ron a nasty reply, but decided to ignore both of them until the argument was over – which would probably take quite a while – and keep on doing his homework instead.

Ron had actually been ok about Viktor Krum in the end of fourth year, he had even asked for an autograph; Harry actually thought things would be all right between them. But good things don't last, and in the beginning of this year Hermione informed them she and Viktor were officially a couple, and ever since, Harry had to put up with her and Ron's bickering all over again. Every single week, Ron would go on and on about how Viktor was a git, and how what he was doing was-

"-child molesting, really!" Ron exclaimed, right when Harry decided that it wouldn't hurt to hear their argument, after all.

Hermione gave Ron and icy glare. "Shut up. You have no idea what you're talking about."

Ron returned her look. "Oh, don't I? Would you care to explain me, then?"

"Viktor's a gentleman, ok? He would never, ever molest me. He's far from it."

"He's far, alright," Ron mumbled. "What kind of relationship do you plan on having with someone you can only see once or twice a year, anyway?"

_Tap, tap, tap._

They all turned to where the noise was coming from and saw a brown owl tapping the window. Hermione stood up, shrieked, "She answered!" and hurried to the window to let the owl in.

"Who answered?" Harry asked curiously, while sitting down across from Ron, in the seat Hermione had been occupying just seconds before.

"Samira," she answered, while untying the letter from the owl's leg. "You know, Viktor's sister, who I became friends with in Bulgaria." 

Harry simply answered, "Oh," and then asked Ron, "So, still willing to play chess?" 

Ron grinned. "I'm always willing to beat you mercilessly, Harry."

Harry didn't argue, and instead said, "Well, I guess I'll play with Hermione's pieces, I'm too lazy to go and pick up my own."

"Ok, but just for the record, Hermione's pieces are extremely afraid of mine. The last game was a _massacre, _wasn't it, Hermione?" he turned to their bushy-haired friend, who was currently reading Samira's letter with a concentrated look on her face.

"I don't think she heard you," Harry said.

"Reckon the letter's really interesting," Ron answered, and then cracked his knuckles. "Alright, Harry, you're white, you start."

Harry started to give orders to Hermione's pieces, who gave him a "Hey, you're not Hermione" look, but obeyed him nonetheless. 

He and Ron had been playing for about five minutes when Ginny approached them and asked, with a concerned look, "Hey, do you know what's gotten into Hermione?"

Both the boys looked up from the board at Ginny, and them at the couch Hermione was supposed to be - and wasn't.

"Where is she?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, what happened?" Ron added.

"I have no idea! I was coming into the common room at the same time she was storming out so I bumped into her, I was going to say sorry when I saw that she was already gone. It all happened so fast, I'm not even sure if it was really her; but since she's not here, it probably was." 

"Oh, well," said Ron standing up, "I guess I'll go see what's going on with her."

                                                                                *

Hermione stormed into the girls' bathroom and leaned on the wall beside the sink, crying softly, and cursing herself mentally for being so sensitive. She felt ashamed of herself for caring about something like that, but at the same time couldn't help doing so.

She slid down the wall and sat down on the floor, just when she heard a noise. Someone was coming in. The door creaked open and she caught a glimpse of the person. Ron.

He peeked slowly, glancing around carefully to make sure no one saw him looking inside a girls' bathroom. "Hermione? Hermione, are you there?" 

Ron looked down and noticed her sitting on the floor, her face buried in her knees. He gave one last glance behind him and entered quickly, closing the door behind him. "Why'd you storm out like-" he stopped short as she looked up with her tear-strained face. "Oh."

Hermione wiped the tears with the sleeve of her robes and stared at him. "Ron, what on earth are you doing here? You've never ever followed me when I stormed out crying, so what possessed you to do it?" Her voice was unusually high.

He shrugged and said casually, "I've matured."

Hermione sent him an annoyed, skeptical look.

He raised his hands in mock defeat. "Ok, I had no idea you were crying."

"Fine," she said with impatience. "But I am, so get out."

"No," he said simply. Then, probably realizing he couldn't just say that, he added, "If I had known you were crying, I would never have followed you, because God knows how uncomfortable that makes me. But since I didn't know it and I did follow you, I can't leave now. That would make me look like an insensitive prat."

"You _are_ an insensitive prat," she hissed.

But Ron didn't look offended. If anything, he looked amused. "Hey, hey, what's with the hostility?" He ran a hand through his fiery hair, something he did very often. "I mean, I know you're having a hard time and everything, but you don't need to take it all out on me, I'm pretty sure I still haven't messed up today."

Hermione turned angrier by the second. She glared at him and said fiercely; pronouncing every syllable slowly, "Go. Away."

"Sorry, Hermione," Ron said, "I know you want me to leave, and I really want to leave, but I can't. Now I've got to perform my duties as a friend."

"You are not the person to do that, call Ginny." 

"Oh, no. I am your friend and I've got the right to stay here."

"No, you don't. This is a _girls'_ bathroom," she retorted.

Ron intently ignored Hermione's remark, and sat down on the floor next to her. "So, since I'm not leaving, you might want to tell me what's wrong."

"No, I don't. It's stupid," she said.

Ron nodded. "I am absolutely sure it is."

"Oh, thanks a lot," she replied sarcastically.

"Anytime," he answered, intently ignoring her harshness. "Well, you can start to tell me now, because you know I won't leave you alone 'til you do."

Hermione looked exasperated. "Honestly, Ron! Can't you get it through your thick skull that I don't want to talk about it??"

"Can't you get it through _your_ thi– er – your skull that I'm not giving up?" 

"Damn," said Hermione under her breath.

Ron heard it, since he was sitting just beside her, and gaped mockingly. "Did I hear correctly?? Miss Perfect Granger swearing?" He shook his head. "I'm extremely disappointed! What would McGonagall say if she was here right now?"

Hermione gave him an icy glare. "She would probably say you've got a detention for being in a girls' bathroom."

Ron smiled to himself as he noticed that she wasn't crying anymore. "Yeah, probably. I guess you'll have to tell me before she finds me here, then. You wouldn't want it to be your fault that I got a detention, would you?"

"My fault?? You're the one who won't leave me alone!"

Ron rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. "Look, I'm starting to lose my patience here, can we do this soon? You are a _very_ stubborn lady, did you know that?"

"You're way more stubborn than me." 

"I am a strong willed person and proud of it."

"You, a 'strong willed person'?" Hermione laughed menacing. "Try 'insufferable git'!"

"Is there a reason why you're so bitchy?" Ron said as Hermione finally started to get to him.

"Watch your language," Hermione said, in a would-be-casual voice.

Ron, starting to raise his voice, said, "Don't you dare tell me what to do, you bossy-" 

He was cut off by Hermione, who suddenly blurted out, "Viktor broke up with me."

That caused him to drop all of his defenses. "_What_?"

Hermione wasn't looking at him. "You heard me."

"But he - why?" Ron looked dumbstruck.

She shrugged. "Apparently he fell in love with some girl." 

They were silent for a second, neither of them really knowing what to say until Ron spoke, "Hermione – er – I didn't mean to yell at you."

She smiled slightly. "It's ok."

"And also…" he continued uncertainly. "Well, I guess I'm not the best person to tell you this, because I hate the bloke's guts and under different circumstances I would be the first one to throw a party to celebrate him out of our lives, but I… I don't know, for some odd reason I understand what you're feeling."

"And why's that?" Hermione asked interested. "Were you hurt when Lavender dumped you?"

"Not really," he said nonchalantly, and then winced when he remembered the day Lavender broke up with him in the middle of the Great Hall. "My pride was, though."

"Were you ever depressed about a girl at all?"

"Er… No. Not really. Maybe I don't really understand what you're feeling, after all," Ron said.

Hermione started playing with a lock of her hair and said softly, "No, no. You _do_ understand, because I'm not crying about the break up." 

Ron gave her an extremely confused look. "_You're not_?"

She shook her head. "I received the letter from Viktor telling me about the girl and breaking up with me three days ago."

"Three days?" He stared at her in indignation. "_Three_ days and you didn't even mention it to us?"

Hermione stared back at him and Ron saw that, though she wasn't crying anymore, her eyes were still bloodshot. "Ron, please, not now. You can yell at me later."

"Ok, it's just that I thought-" 

"I know," she interrupted, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Ron nodded. "So what is it you're crying about, then?"

"I received an owl from Samira today." Hermione sighed and looked down. "She asked me if Viktor had told me about the girl - Ingrid, I think that's her name. Anyway, Samira said she was the one who introduced Ingrid to Viktor, and about two weeks ago she caught both of them – you know – kissing, and then forced him to owl me and tell me everything. Viktor hadn't mentioned that part of the story to me in his letter."

Ron grabbed her arm to force her to look his way. "Wait a second there, Hermione. You mean the bastard was _cheating_ on you?" 

"Pretty much," she answered in a small voice. 

"The son of a bitch!" Ron's face flushed with rage and his grip on Hermione's arm tightened. 

Hermione grimaced. "Ouch! Ron, my arm-"

He didn't seem to hear her, even though he let go of her arm and stood up, pacing around the room. "Oh, now I have to go over there and beat the crap out of him." His voice was lower, but the anger seemed to be rising.

Hermione noticed that his fists were clenching and she too stood up, following Ron with her eyes. "Ron…"

"No, really, I'm going to kick his stupid Bulgarian arse so hard that he won't be able to ride that damn broom of his ever again!" 

His reaction was starting to scare Hermione. "Ron, calm down, I'm-"

"Calm down?? CALM DOWN??" he shouted.

"Ron! The noise - they're going to find you here-"

He stopped and turned towards her. "Hermione, the jerk thinks he can go around groping some bimbo while he's committed to _you_! I mean, how much of an asshole can he be??" Ron ran his fingers through his hair. "The fucking git can just go to hell, because no one's willing to put up with his bullshit anymore." He sighed and fell silent.

Hermione, realizing he would finally let her talk, approached him cautiously and said softly, "Look, I appreciate you concern, and for once I won't give you a lecture about the absurd amount of swear words you were able to pronounce in a minute, but, to me, the fact that he was kissing her is more disturbing than the fact that he was cheating on me." 

Ron's look of anger was replaced by one of confusion. "Aren't kissing her and cheating on you the same thing?"

"Yes, but-" Hermione suddenly looked extremely self-aware. She shifted her weight from a foot to the other nervously, and then mumbled, "He's never kissed _me_."

Ron gaped. "_What_?"

"I don't know why on earth I'm telling you that," she mumbled. 

But he didn't pay attention, since he was still too busy being stunned. "But I thought - I mean – he was - you were _dating_!"

Hermione gave him a glare. "I know that." She sighed loudly, grabbed him by the arm and started to push him out the door. "Actually, you are not helping, ok? You're just making me feel even more like a freak. Now get out and forget I ever told you this."

That remark was enough to make Ron recover from his surprise. He released himself from Hermione's grip and said in an assuring manner, "You are _not_ a freak, ok? If anyone's a freak, it's Krum."

She leaned against the wall and rubbed her temples. "I want to believe you so badly, Ron, but I just can't. For one thing, Viktor has no problem at all with kissing girls. Ingrid's there to prove it. He kissed her the second time they met; I dated him for six months and he didn't even _try_." She looked like she was about to start crying again. "And also, how on earth can I believe you when you didn't even acknowledge me as a girl until last year?"

Ron looked helplessly at her. "That's because I'm a thick-headed moron! And Krum's another one."

Hermione started shaking her head slowly as tears started to run down her cheeks once more.

Ron was completely clueless and extremely uncomfortable. "Don't cry, Hermione, please. Maybe he never had the opportunity to do it?"

"Oh, please, there's no such thing. You can create your opportunity, if you really want to," she managed to say, and angrily wiped the tears away.

"Maybe he cared too much about you?" he said tentatively and then grimaced, not believing what he had just said.

"Fat lot he cares. Dumping me for someone he only knows for a little more than a week, and shamelessly cheating on me in front of his sister. Yeah, you can just feel the love in the air," she said bitterly. "I've already analyzed this to death, Ron. The only explanation is something I've been trying to deny all my life: there's something wrong with me."

By that point Ron was desperate. "Come on, Hermione, that's ridiculous. _Of course_ there isn't anything-"

"I _knew_ you were going to say that. I think I'm ridiculous too." The tears were now sliding freely down her face, and she seemed to have given up on trying to wipe them. "I'm not supposed to care about stuff like that. I mean, I am Hermione Granger, the bookworm, the know-it-all, right? I don't even think about those things, no, I'm too busy studying for the O.W.L.'s or something. That's who I am, isn't it? But you know what? I'm sick of it! I'm smart, of course, but that's not all I am! I'm also a teenager, and most of all, I am a _girl_. Why doesn't anybody see that?"

Ron didn't know what to answer, so he just stared worriedly at her.

Hermione looked sadly at him. "Yeah, that's what I thought." There was an uncomfortable pause. "I just wanted to know what makes me so unkissable."

"You are not unkissable!!" he protested.

"Yeah, right." Hermione answered skeptically, her voice cracking.

Ron walked to her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and looked into her eyes as a way of assuring her of the veracity of his words. "Hermione, you are _not_ unkissable, ok? In fact, you are extremely kissable. If bloody Krum can't see it, screw him. It's not like he matters."

Hermione was avoiding his eyes, and Ron could see that she wasn't believing him. He sighed, and said softly, "What do I have to say to make you change your mind about this rubbish?"

"Nothing you say will change my mind, Ron."

Ron hesitated for a moment, and then, making up his mind, wiped her tears away with his thumb and said hoarsely, "All right, you asked for it." 

And then he kissed her.

Hermione opened her eyes wide with shock, forgetting for a moment what she was crying about, forgetting for a moment about everything. Then she relaxed, closed her eyes softly and started to slowly kiss him back.

Ron put his hands around her waist, pulling her closer to him and kissing her harder, as Hermione started to unconsciously stroke his hair.

They could have gone on like that for a long time if Ron hadn't suddenly tensed as though he had finally realized what he was doing and let go of Hermione abruptly.

"I – er – have to go," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "I'm inside a – you know – girls' bathroom, and I'm – hum – not one." Then he turned to the door and left, shaking his head.

Hermione slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor and stared at the door Ron had just gone through. She took a deep breath and brought a finger to her lips, trying (and failing) to deal not only with the fact that her best friend had just snogged her inside a girls' bathroom, but, worst of all, she had enjoyed it.


	2. Of lonely pawns and quidditch accidents

Ron reached the portrait hole in seconds but stopped just before giving the password to the Fat Lady

A/N: Fell free to skip all this and go straight to the story, since this author's note is pretty much pointless and way too long… Anyway, here's chapter two of WWAE! I know, it's been eight months. But my muse and I have a very messy love-hate relationship. When I posted chapter one, I was planning on continuing it, but I got a terrible aaargh-why-can't-I-write-just-_one_-blasted-worthy-line, oh-my-god-just-make-the-roof-fall-on-my-head-and-let-me-out-this-misery case of writer's block. Believe me, it's not nice. So, after a lot of frustrated attempts to write something half-worth reading, I gave up. It wasn't as if I'd _said_ I'd continue it. But when my muse came back (after five months! The little… *aham*), I picked up this story again, wrote a little bit of it, and then came writer's block once more. And I'm already naturally slow and lazy, so… you do the math. But that's not important, the important thing is that, after a lot of suffering from the author, it's here! _And_ it has POVs! Right. So I'll let you read it, but first I wanted to thank Courtney, for being such a good friend, helping me with this and encouraging me to write (where's _your_ new chapter, girl?), and Elanor Gamgee, who's just lovely.

***

Chapter Two: Of Lonely Pawns and Quidditch Accidents

Ron reached the portrait hole in seconds, but stopped just before giving the password to the Fat Lady and leaned (more like threw himself) against the wall. 

So he had just kissed Hermione. Very, very stupid thing to do. He was sure that he had had a reason to do that, but couldn't even remember it anymore. What he knew was that he had done it, and now he had to face the consequences, not run away. 

Well, he hadn't _really_ run away. He had walked away. Walked very fast, true, but still only walked. He sighed miserably. Yeah, like it made any difference.

Maybe he could just pretend it never happened. 

"You need the password if you're going to come in," said the Fat Lady impatiently.

Ron looked up at her, just realizing her presence. He didn't know if he was going to go in. It wasn't as though he wanted to give Harry a full report on what had just happened, especially when he himself still didn't know for sure. But then, it wasn't such a big problem, as Harry would never press Ron to tell him anything, and, even if he did, Ron knew how to dodge his questions. The only ones who could always make Ron tell them anything were the twins and, of course, Ginny.

_ _

_Ginny_. Crap.

He knew his sister. She would never miss the chance of being alone with Harry when she had the perfect excuse. He could even see it: _No, Harry, I'll stay here with you. Hermione is my friend too, you know. Want to play some chess while we wait for them to come back?_ Typical.

And it wasn't exactly his idea of fun to fumble around for an answer to Ginny's questions, which never left room for his usual vague replies.

Even so, he couldn't just stay outside the common room all night. He would get a detention, not to mention that Hermione would have to come inside sooner or later. Honestly, if there was anything worse than facing Ginny and Harry right now, it was facing her.

Actually, he had no idea how he was going to be able to face her ever again.

"Uh, dear, can you hear me? The password," said the Fat Lady, whose existence Ron had once again forgotten.

"I don't _care_ about the stupid password!" 

"Excuse me?" said the portrait, looking shocked by his outburst.

He took a deep breath. "You know, up to yesterday, I thought my decisions wouldn't get much dumber than asking Fleur to the ball or flying Dad's Ford Anglia... Hell, was I wrong. My stupidity has risen to a whole new level."

The Fat Lady blinked. "Er – Are you all right?" 

Ron gave a wry laugh. _All right?_ If her definition of all right was 'wanting to kick yourself and getting annoyed at a painting for asking if you're all right', then yes, he was very much all right.

"Do I _look_ all right to you?" he answered, not sounding as snappish as he felt, but definitely more so than he intended to sound.

The Fat Lady looked ruffled. "I was just trying to help!"

"Do you have a time turner on you?"

"Of course not!"

"Then you can't help me, ok? Mushroom tea."

The portrait opened reluctantly, still sending him dirty looks. 

As he entered the common room, he could see Harry and Ginny playing chess by the fire, where he had left them. Harry seemed to be examining one of the bishops he had taken from Ginny, looking very bored indeed, like he had been waiting for her to make her move for about a century. She had only the king and a pawn left, but still seemed to be fighting bravely. 

That was the essence of Ginny, in fact. Never gave up on a game. Even if the opponent was heavily armed with a pretty face and the Ravenclaw Seeker position and she had nothing to defend herself with. 

Ron watched Harry and Ginny play chess together with mixed emotions. She could now have a normal conversation with Harry without blushing, but Ron knew that her crush was far from gone. He wanted his sister to be happy, he really did. But then, at the same time, he couldn't help feeling somehow relieved that her infatuation with Harry was unrequited. Really, why his best friend? Couldn't she fall in love with someone _safe_, like… like Neville? Or even better, not fall in love _at all_? That'd be great.

"Hey, Ron!" It was Harry, calling him over. Ginny didn't look up from the chessboard.

Ron walked over to them, although he really, really didn't want to. "Hi, Harry."

"Didn't find her?" asked Harry.

It was the first thing out of his mouth. The bloody first thing out of his mouth, and it was about Hermione. Couldn't Harry just... talk about the weather or something before bringing her up? Ron ran a hand through his hair. Well, no point in lying, was there? "I did, actually," he said, turning to Ginny before Harry could make any further inquiries. "Hey, don't you greet your brother anymore, Virginia?"

"Shut up, Ron, I'm busy," she snapped without taking her eyes off the board.

"Busy? Oh, I see, it takes a lot of concentration to play _that_ well," he snapped back, eyeing her lonely pawn pointedly.

Ginny glared at Ron and then, still glaring, moved her king a spot. "Your turn, Harry," she said evenly.

Harry sat up straight in his chair, pushed his glasses further up his nose and murmured, mostly to himself, looking the board over, "OK then… Can't take any of your pieces…" he glanced up at Ginny, grinned, and added a little slyly, "Too bad, I was enjoying that."Ginny glowed; Ron felt sick.

Harry looked back at the game and moved his knight a spot, just as Ron eyed the board, realizing what his friend was doing.

"No!!" he exclaimed. "Harry, you prat, that way you're going to leave your-"

"Checkmate."

"-king unprotected!"

Harry looked from Ron's exasperated expression to Ginny's smug smile, flabbergasted. "Wha-? How did you _do_ that??"

"What were you saying about my playing again, Ron?" said Ginny in a very slick tone.

"Oh, please, Ginny, you only won because Harry is stupid," Ron replied, knowing that that wasn't completely true. He turned to his black-haired friend. "_Honestly_, you got your king checkmated by a pawn! A _pawn_, Harry!"

Harry murmured a lot of things, but none of them were distinguishable. Ron understood his friend. Not that he had ever lost a game of chess to Ginny, but his sister's radiant I-won-you-lost smile was enough to drive anyone up the wall. He just hoped that her ability to turn the game around was restricted to chess and chess alone.

Ginny then turned on her chair to look at Ron. "Well, you shall now have my full attention, dear brother of mine. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Ron froze. It most certainly was _not_ what he wanted. He never in his right mind would want it, because when Ginny was in her full attention mode, she was _very_ attentive. Too attentive.

"So… Didn't you say you had found Hermione? Where is she?"

"She's probably still in the bathroom," Ron answered, looking intently at his hands, getting ready for the third degree. "That's where I found her."

"Was she ok?" Harry asked, standing up and starting to put the chess pieces in their box.

"Uh… Not really. She was crying."

"What's bothering her?" Ginny asked softly, standing up too, to help Harry.

"She was upset…" said Ron, not looking up from his hands for fear that his expression would betray him; hiding emotions was never his forte.

"Yes…" said Ginny gently, as if she was trying to encourage him to elaborate. "We've pretty much established that, but could you - _Ron_! Your ears are so _red_!" she reached for his right ear, but he pushed her hand away immediately. "What's the matter?"

"Leave my ears alone, Ginny."

Ginny gave him a weird look while Harry, who was looking very much like he didn't want to be included in the conversation, stepped sheepishly between the two Weasleys and handed Ron the box, which he had just closed. "Here, Ron, your chess pieces."

Ron took the box from him and twirled it around in his hands, staring at it. The game with Hermione seemed like an eternity ago. It was almost like another era. The I-can-face-Hermione era. In the present one, he just wanted to disappear from the common room before she showed up.

"I'm going to bed," he announced, taking the fact that they had stopped asking questions as an opportunity to leave. 

"Don't you want to wait for Hermione to-" Ginny started.

"I'm very tired, you know."

Harry was the one giving him a weird look now. "Goodnight, then."

"Yeah, 'night," said Ginny.

Ron had just turned to go away, but could hear Harry saying, "Well, Ginny, could you put Hermione's pieces in her room when you go to bed?"

"Sure," Ginny answered, "but I hardly think that's going to be necessary. Look."

Ron did, and regretted it instantly. Hermione was standing by the entrance of the common room, looking intently at something on the other side of the room.

_Oh, damn, *so* close_, he thought, glancing nervously her way. Harry and Ginny turned to him with identical looks on their faces, their eyes clearly saying, "What? Decided to stay?" Ron was just barely aware of this; Hermione was the last person he wanted to see in that moment and yet, ironically enough, he now found himself utterly unable to look away from her.

She was staring fixedly at a group of first years with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, but Ron was sure that she wasn't interested at all in the eleven-year-olds; he knew her like the back of his hand and it wasn't really that hard to see, whether by the way she was biting her lower lip or by her ragged breath, that she was trying to gather enough courage to come inside and face him.She looked small, scared and incredibly lost.

Not that he was sensitive enough to perceive those things. Maybe he had just assumed that her feelings would mirror his own.

Then a very loud sound that almost made his head explode came from his right, "_Hermione_!"

"I told you to leave my ears alone, Ginny," he hissed to his sister. "Stop yelling."

Ginny ignored Ron's comment completely and continued shouting for Hermione, who hesitated a little and then turned her head in their direction.

Ron discovered that, in a case of emergency, looking away was actually quite easy. 

Hermione walked towards them and said awkwardly, "Hi Ginny, hi… everybody."

"Oh my God, you look like a mess," said Ginny, hugging Hermione promptly. 

"Um… You all right?" said Harry to Hermione after Ginny had let her go.

"Yeah… Sort of, I'm not sure."

"What happened?" said Ginny a little too fast, as if she had been itching to ask that question for ages. Maybe she had.

Hermione glanced uneasily at Ron, just to look back at her hands quickly upon realizing that he had been looking back at her. "Can we not talk about this right now?" she said very quietly. "I have some things to sort out." 

Ron turned his gaze to the ceiling. This was torture. He quite expected Ginny to ask something along the lines of "What things?", but she apparently saved the embarrassing and importunate questions for him, since she only mumbled "Yes, of course," and fell silent.

All four of them stood there in silence, and, after a few uncomfortable moments, Ron said a little hesitantly, "I was just going to bed."

He could hardly make out his sister saying "Ron, wait-" as climbed up the stairs to his dormitory quickly, without looking back.

***

Hermione stared at the fire the next day, wondering if she should say something. 

It was eight o'clock in the evening and Harry was in Quidditch practice. George, after having been named Captain, started to come up with some pretty unusual tactics, and one of them was to practice during the nighttime. 

According to him, anyone who could play in the dark could play even better with light. Everyone knew he was only doing that because he didn't want to wake up early, though. Harry said that he was already accustomed to the dark because of the practices he had when Oliver was captain, which were before the sunrise.

So, Harry had gone to practice, and she and Ron were sitting at a table in the common room, neither of them talking nor looking at each other, but both painfully aware of the other's presence. 

The uneasiness between then had been bad enough during breakfast, but Harry had made it even worse by mentioning the Yule Ball. Not that he had actually mentioned it, although it was close enough. He had asked what was wrong with them. Ron had laughed nervously and asked where he had gotten the idea that something was wrong, and Harry had started saying "Well, it's just like the day after the-", thought better about it and stopped himself with an embarrassed "Never mind." Of course, they all knew exactly what he was talking about.

During lunch, Ginny had approached them and asked Hermione if she had already 'sorted things out'. Hermione had answered "Not really", which was the absolute truth. The shock had worn off a little and her thoughts now made some sense, but it was still hard to believe it had actually happened and ever harder to get a word out around Ron. Besides, she didn't want to tell Ginny anything without his permission. How she was ever going to be able to ask for it without speaking to him remained a mystery.

She glanced at her watch. It had been thirty minutes since Harry had gone to practice, which meant thirty minutes since she and Ron had been there in silence. Well, not in complete silence. About thirty minutes ago, Ron had mumbled something that sounded very much like "This is ridiculous" to himself, obviously referring to their current situation. That was all. In half an hour. He normally wouldn't be able to spend so much as a couple minutes with his mouth shut. 

Hermione would never have guessed that she'd miss Ron's talkativeness, but there she was.

"Harry's right, you know," she said softly.

Ron turned to her, looking startled by the sound of her voice. "What?" 

Hermione took a deep breath. Well, she wouldn't back down now that she had managed to get the first words out. "Harry's right. This is exactly like the day after the Yule Ball."

She was almost sure that Ron winced slightly at her mention of the ball. "Maybe," he said weakly, after a few moments.

Hermione watched him turn back to the fire and then came to the conclusion that Harry was wrong. This was much worse than the day after the Yule Ball. At least then, they had had a fight. They could say that the discomfort was because they were angry at each other or something. Now, the only explanation for the uneasiness was that they were angry with themselves. She knew Ron was. He quite obviously regretted having kissed her. She wasn't sure why that hurt so much. After all, she too regretted that kiss. Didn't she?

_Don't be silly_, she reprehended herself_,_ _of course you do._

Of course she did. 

"Hermione?" came Ron's voice.

"Yes?"

"Could we not make a big deal out of this?" he said, voice quivering.

Hermione decided it was wiser not to point it out to Ron that they already _were_ making a big deal out of the situation. And anyway, how could they not? It_ was _a big deal. Didn't he realize that?

"It was my first kiss, Ron."

By the look on his face, Ron got her point. He looked down at his hands and said softly, "I know. I just- I'm sorry that I ruined that for you." 

"I never said you ruined it."

Ron looked up at her with a shocked expression on his face, and Hermione cringed, realizing the full implications of her words. Where on earth had they come from, anyway?

"But, er- you did," she finished lamely, looking back at the fireplace and hoping she wasn't too red. "Of course."

That was when the portrait hole opened and the entire Quidditch team, save Harry, stormed in.

"That's not the point, Fred!" Angelina was yelling, and Hermione winced. They were right beside her and Ron, and Angelina's shout had left her ears ringing.

"I don't know what the problem is, he'll be all right, won't he?? We didn't hurt him!!" Fred yelled back.

"And it's not like it was our fault!" amended George.

"Yeah! He wasn't hurt!!" repeated Fred.

Angelina gave them a look of contempt and climbed the stairs to her dormitory. All the team left too, except Alicia.

"Are we still going to have practice tomorrow?" she asked. 

"Of course," said George. 

"Look, Alicia, tell Angelina that _he wasn't hurt_!!" Fred broke in.

"I think you've already told her that a couple of times," said Alicia in an amused voice, and went after Angelina.

George snorted. Fred glared at him.

"Sorry. It's just… A couple of times… You have to admit, that was the understatement of the century!" said George, laughing.

"What are you doing here?" said Ron.

"Oh my God, a bunch of Gryffindors just invaded the Gryffindor common room," said Fred.

"Who's the incompetent twit who let _that_ happen?" added George.

"Shouldn't you be in practice?" said Hermione, starting to turn back to her natural color. 

"Oh, that," said George. "I had to call it off. You see, everyone was playing very poorly, so I made them have some of our lucky Canary Creams."

"Yeah, and Harry started making a fuss only because he didn't turn back," said Fred. "I told him the feathers looked dashing on him, but he wouldn't listen."

"Well, lilac is definitely _not_ his color."

"Definitely," agreed Fred.

"Wait," said Ron. "You two turned Harry into a great purple bird?"

"Of course not, Ron," said Fred. "We turned him into a great _lilac_ bird. Jeez."

"Anyway, he's in the Hospital Wing right now and everyone started yelling at us because we think it's funny," said George.

Fred scowled. "Correction: _Angelina_ started yelling and the others went along with her."

"She's a great mass leader, you know," said George.

"It's a wonder she didn't get the Captain position, she's way better than you, George," said Fred.

"It's a wonder she hasn't dumped you yet, Fred. She's _way_ better than _you_," retorted George.

Hermione liked the twins very much, but they weren't helping her already irritable mood at that moment. 

"Oh, you're right!" said Fred dramatically. "I don't know why she's with me! I'm so horrendously ugly that-"

"Don't you dare insult your appearance! You're a great-looking bloke, Fred!" said George.

"Oh, you're so kind and selfless, George," said Fred.

"I know," answered George.

"Right, so I guess I'll just burst inside the girl's dorm, serenade Angelina and beg for her forgiveness now," said Fred, turning and going up the stairs.

"I'll go watch. You two want to come?" said George.

"No," said Ron shortly, sounding as annoyed at the world as Hermione felt.

"Me neither, but thanks for asking," said Hermione.

George shrugged and ran up the staircase, shouting, "Don't start without me!"

Hermione glanced at Ron, at the same time he glanced at her. They both looked down quickly at their hands, and Hermione fought the urge to sigh, wishing more than anything that she had accepted George's offer.

TBC – If my muse is nice…


	3. Girl talk

A/N: Well, I didn't take that long now, did I? Oh, come on, it's less than eight months! :) Anyway, here's the next chapter, beta-read by Elanor Gamgee from the Sugar Quill! I don't own anything, just borrowing…. Right, so I'm sure you don't remember, but in the first chapter Hermione mentions Lavender dumping Ron, and this chapter deals with the Lavender/Ron thing. I had an urge to clear that up. If you want, I recommend you read chapter one again (oh, come on, it's short!), because it'll probably help with this one. Oh, and if you're going to read chapter one, it wouldn't hurt to review it as well, would it? :)

                                                                        *** 

Hermione entered her dormitory, changed into her nightgown and got into her four-poster.

She and Ron had sat in the common room in silence for a few more minutes after the twins had left, until she hadn't been able to take it anymore and went to bed. However, she wondered how she was ever going to sleep if her mind wouldn't stop swirling around. 

Just when she gave up, she heard the door creak open and Lavender's voice yelling downstairs, "No, Seamus, now I really have to go to bed. You should too."

Hermione couldn't hear Seamus' answer, but whatever it was made Lavender giggle. Then she said, "_Tomorrow_, Seamus. Sweet dreams," stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

Hermione sat up in bed and opened the curtains of her four-poster so she could see her roommate. "Lavender?"

Lavender squinted to try to make out the owner of the voice, but her eyes weren't accustomed to the dark. She reached into her robe's pocket for her wand. "Lumos." Its tip illuminated. "Oh, hi, Hermione. How many times have I told you not to put the candles out until everyone's in the room? Do you have any idea how many times I've bumped my toe on some furniture while trying to find my bed in the dark?"

"Well, I can only sleep when it's dark," said Hermione.

"I can only _see_ when it's not," retorted Lavender.

"You have a wand, why don't you use it just the way you're doing right now?"

Lavender looked from her illuminated wand to Hermione, shrugged, and started to light the candles in the room.

Hermione watched her for a second and then took a deep breath. "Can we talk?"

Lavender gave her a surprised look. "You want to talk to me? That's a new one. But of course, what's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Hermione repeated softly. "Why are you assuming something's wrong? Can't I talk to you just because I feel like it?"

"You just confirmed my belief that something _is_ wrong," said Lavender knowledgeably.

Hermione winced a little; she had only heard Lavender use that tone of voice when referring to Divination. "There's nothing wrong."

"Fine, whatever you say," said Lavender, obviously unconvinced, starting to change out of her school robes. "What do you want to talk about?"

_There's still time to back out, Hermione, you can still make something up. _

"About you... and Ron," Hermione answered after a few moments' hesitation. She had always been terrible at girl talks. Especially when the girl talk was with Lavender. And even more so when the girl talk with Lavender was about Ron. "Call me crazy, but you two didn't even seem to like each other all that much, and then suddenly you're making out in the middle of the common room. How did that happen?" 

It was a question that had been nagging in the back of Hermione's head for the last two months. She wasn't sure why she had never asked about it, she just... hadn't wanted to seem like she cared too much. Which she didn't, of course. And still doesn't. She was just curious, that was all. 

Lavender put on her nightdress and looked at Hermione, seeming a little surprised. "You mean you don't know?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Why don't you ask him?" asked Lavender, sitting down on her bed, which was next to Hermione's.

Hermione twisted an end of her sheet around her fingers. "Well, I can't exactly ask him about you right now."

"Had another fight, did you?" Argh, there was that knowledgeable tone of voice again. 

"Er - not exactly."

Lavender didn't make further inquiries. Both girls sat in silence for a moment until Lavender said, "Seamus had dumped me for some fourth-year."

Hermione blinked. "Sorry, what?"

"You want to know how Ron and I happened, don't you? I'm telling you, if I don't, he probably will, anyway."

"Oh, right, go on."

"Well, Seamus broke up with me in the beginning of the term, saying he 'needed some time alone'. That was very, very weird, because we sent letters to each other almost every day during the summer. Sappy, lovey-dovey letters. The 'I can't breathe without you here with me' kind of letter. The 'my heart is aching to hear the sound of your voice' kind. The 'the sun doesn't shine when-"

"It's ok, I got it," said Hermione. If girl talks were like that, she wasn't sure if she liked them very much.

"Sorry, got carried away. Anyway, he broke up with me and, about three days later, showed up with the fourth-year what's-her-name. So much for being alone. And then, of course, I was devastated. Parvati then told me that being depressed wouldn't bring him back, which I suppose was true. That was when I... Well, you remember that day I asked to have a word with Ron in the hallway after Herbology?"

                                                                ~o~

_"Ron, can I have a word with you?" Lavender asked Ron in the hallway after Herbology._

_"Yeah, sure, what is it?" said Ron, turning to her._

_Lavender eyed Harry and Hermione, who were (obviously) there with him and said pointedly to Ron, "In private."_

_Hermione sent her a murderous look._

                                          ~o~

"What?" Hermione gasped. "I did _not_!"

Lavender grinned at her. "Oh, please, you wanted to bite my head off."

"You're completely exaggerating."

"Maybe. But it's my story, and I'll tell it my way."

                                                                ~o~

Hermione, quite noticeably, wanted to bite her head off. Ron looked at Lavender, seeming intrigued.

_"Er- ok, I guess." He turned to his friends. "Go on, I'll catch up."_

_They both left, Hermione still giving Lavender dirty looks on her way._

_Lavender looked after them, and, making sure that that they were gone, said, "Seamus broke up with me."_

_Ron raised his eyebrows as if to say 'so what?'. "Yeah, I know about that."_

_"I want him back." _

_"And what does that have to do with me?" he asked, sounding like he really wasn't in the mood to hear about Lavender's undying love for Seamus._

_"And the only... Ah, whatever, pretend to be my boyfriend," Lavender blurted out, forgetting about the whole preparation she had memorized._

_"*What*?" asked Ron, seeming taken aback._

_"I'll do your Divination homework for you. You don't have to do much. Just call me 'dear', laugh at my jokes and kiss me once in a while when Seamus is looking."_

                                                                ~o~

"Wait, wait. Why Ron?"

"Oh, I was waiting for that question to come up. You see, Dean would be my first choice, but he's Seamus' best friend and would probably tell him it was all a set-up. Dean can't keep his mouth shut. Neville..." She wrinkled her nose. "Well, you know. And Harry, as we all know, is too noble and honorable. He'd never agree to do that."

"I thought Ron wouldn't, either. Guess I was wrong," Hermione said, feeling a bit disappointed. "He agreed, just like that?"

Lavender laughed. "Are you kidding me? His ears turned a deep red and he told me I was a loony."

Hermione smiled, and then something occurred to her. "Wait, wasn't that the same day I found you two...?"

"Hold on, I'm getting there."

                                                                ~o~

Ron's ears turned a deep red. "You're a loony, Lavender."

"What's the matter, Ron?" asked Lavender teasingly. "Never kissed a girl before?"

The blush spread to his cheeks. "That's none of your business."

"It's not that hard, you know. Want me to show you?"

He stared at her in disbelief.

Lavender stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips briefly against his.

                                                                ~o~

"You kissed him," Hermione stated faintly.

"I didn't kiss him. It was more of a peck. A slight brush of lips, if you will. I was desperate," Lavender said defensively. "And anyway, you should have seen his expression. It was priceless."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," answered Hermione, congratulating herself mentally for being able to keep her voice even.

"He's pretty adorable when he's shocked. Oh, don't tell Seamus I said that," Lavender added quickly.

                                                                ~o~

Lavender grinned when she saw Ron's adorable shocked expression. "See? Kissing a girl is not an issue anymore. Will you help me now?"

"No!" he answered, not looking shocked anymore. Just exasperated.

"Oh, come on, Ron, what do you have to lose?"

He glanced at his watch, ignoring her. "We're late for Potions."

"But-"

"See you."

                                                                ~o~

"And he left. I almost gave up after that."

"Why didn't you?" asked Hermione.

"Well, later that day I had a talk with Parvati in the common room. And she asked how my talk with Ron was."

                                                                ~o~

"How was your talk with Ron, by the way?"

"Oh, terrible," Lavender answered.

"I'm sorry about that..." Parvati said in a soothing voice. "Oh, talking about bad news, I saw Seamus and that girl today, putting on quite a show in the hallways."

"He used to *hate* public displays of affection!" moaned Lavender.

"That girl is quite the slut, you know. Maybe he just didn't stop her," said Parvati, obviously trying to be positive but just making things worse.

"I can't believe he dumped me for her. I thought we had something."

"Well, I was talking to Dean the other day, and he told me that Seamus told him that he never cared about that girl. Apparently he broke up with you because things were getting too serious. I wasn't supposed to tell you this, but Dean wasn't supposed to tell me either, so whatever. The point is, Seamus can't live without you, Lav. We just have to make him realize that."

"If he can't live without me, shouldn't he have realized that already?" asked Lavender gloomily.

"Lav, I keep on telling you, but you just don't *get* it. Boys. Are. Stupid." 

Lavender didn't answer, just stared sadly at the fire. Parvati patted her arm reassuringly.

"Go talk to Ron."

Lavender turned to her. "What, now?"

"Of course now!" Parvati pointed at Ron, who was sitting on a couch by the fire. "Harry and Hermione aren't with him, you know how rare that is?"

"Very rare."

"Yes, and that's why you have to go now," said Parvati authoritatively.

"But-"

"**Go!**"

"All right, all right. Calm down." Lavender stood up, straightened her robe and walked over to Ron.

He was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment on his lap, looking quite frustrated. Lavender looked at it from over his shoulders and confirmed her suspicions: it was his Divination homework.

"Having trouble?"

Ron looked up at her. "Oh, hello, Lavender. Any luck on your hunting for a human puppet?"

"Oh, no," answered Lavender easily. "You see, I have my mind set on this one redhead, but he wants to play hard to get."

"Maybe he just thinks that plan of yours is stupid, ever considered that?" 

"Well, I *have* considered that he might have some problems with my gender, if you know what I mean." Lavender recognized this was a below-the-belt comment, but couldn't care less.

Ron looked affronted. "Hey, watch it!"

She chuckled. "Sorry. Mind if I sit down?"

"Of course I do. But then, I don't own the couch," he added, making room for her.

Lavender sat down next to him and asked, "So, where are Harry and Hermione?"

"Harry's in Quidditch practice," answered Ron.

Lavender grabbed his wrist to look at his watch. "But it's-"

"I know it's late, but George's captain," he said, as if that explained everything. And it did. "Hermione… - Let go of my wrist, Lavender - well, I guess Hermione's in the Owlery sending Krum a letter."

"*Viktor* Krum?" questioned Lavender, surprised. She knew that Hermione had gone to the ball with him (who didn't?), but to know they were still in contact...

"Yeah, Viktor Krum," confirmed Ron a bit testily. "The one and – fortunately – only."

"She still keeps in touch with him?" asked Lavender before she could stop herself.

"I don't feel like discussing Krum right now, Lavender."

                                                                ~o~

"So, I noticed how touchy he was about the subject and decided to drop it and ask him about it later… And I was able to get him to tell me that you and Viktor Krum were an item, Hermione," said Lavender, seeming delighted to finally be able to talk about that.

"We're not anymore," answered Hermione shortly.

"Oh, why?" 

"Well, you know," said Hermione vaguely; she didn't want to end up mentioning break-up letters and girls' bathrooms in a conversation with Lavender. "Distance and everything," she finished, gesturing a lot with her hands and hoping to make some sense.

"That's terrible. It must be-"

"It is," interrupted Hermione before the subject turned entirely to her and Viktor's break up and consequential events. "But please, continue your story, it's fascinating."

"Oh, right."

                                                                ~o~

Lavender noticed how touchy Ron was about the Viktor Krum subject and decided to drop it and ask him about it later. She then snatched the piece of parchment from Ron's lap and began to read it.

"You know, that chart makes no sense."

He made a face. "*Divination* makes no sense."

"Of course it does. You see, first of all," she pointed at a spot in his chart, "Saturn being in the seventh house does *not* mean that you'll rule over the world."

"It doesn't?" said Ron, feigning surprise. "Oh, damn, I was so sure." He took the parchment from her and scratched that part with his quill. "So, what does it mean?" 

"It means that you'll have the kindness of helping a desperate girl out and that she'll owe you forever," answered Lavender, putting the parchment on the other side of the couch and sliding closer to him.

"No it doesn't," said Ron.

"You're right, it doesn't. But you'll do it anyway, won't you?" She placed a hand on his knee.

He looked down at her hand and then back at her. "Lavender, we've been through this, I told you-"  

"Shh…" Lavender put a finger on his lips to silence him. Seamus had just entered the common room. "Please, Ron, just this once," she whispered, closing the space between them before he could protest.

                                                                ~o~

"That time I really kissed him."

"And he kissed you back." It was as much of a statement as it was a question.

"Well, he's stubborn but he's not gay, Hermione! I literally threw myself at him! I'm mean, I know I'm not as good looking as Parvati, but-"

"Ok. I'll take that as a yes," interrupted Hermione.

"Sorry about that," said Lavender sheepishly. "It was a yes. He did kiss me back, and I must say that... You probably don't want to hear that."

"Why wouldn't I?" snapped Hermione.

"I was going to say that when Ron puts his mind to it, he's really-" 

"You're right," said Hermione crossly, "I don't want to hear that."

Lavender gave her a very annoying 'I told you so' smile. "Even so, I couldn't stop thinking about Seamus. Especially since he was watching the whole thing."

                                                              ~o~

Lavender broke the kiss for a second to look at Seamus and felt very satisfied to see his furious expression. Then she whispered to Ron, "It's working."

"Don't think I've forgotten about your Divination offer," he whispered back while she pulled him to her once again.

"**Ron**!** What are you doing**??"

Ron pushed Lavender away immediately, obviously recognizing the voice. Lavender turned to look at Hermione, who was walking toward them, her eyes wide. 

Lavender gave her a look. "Well, Hermione, if you don't know..."

Ron seemed pretty speechless.

"Of course I know!!" Hermione yelled. "I just – you two-" she was apparently at a loss for words herself. "I'll have to give you detentions, you know."

"Detentions?" repeated Lavender incredulously.

"Yes, detentions!! I'm a prefect, no kissing in the common room!"

"But everyone else does it and you never give *them* detentions," Lavender reasoned.

Hermione stared at her for a while and then shouted, "Oh, well, I should!! I'll report this to McGonagall!"

Ron seemed to have regained his voice. "Hermione, you're being-"

"Shut up, Ron!"

                                                              ~o~

Hermione was staring at the wall.

"What?" said Lavender. "Aren't you going to say that I'm exaggerating? That you weren't that out of control?"

"No, you're not exaggerating," said Hermione slowly. "I do regret that, you know."

"You do?"

"Yes. You do know that I ended up not mentioning anything to McGonagall, don't you?

"I know," said Lavender softly. "Thanks for that."

"So, when's the part when you fall madly in love and decide to date?" said Hermione, trying to sound cheerful and realizing she'd overdone it.

"What? Hermione, stop being ridiculous! I'm crazy about Seamus, and Ron can barely stand me!"

"So you never dated?" 

"Oh, please, of course not," said Lavender, looking amused.

"Oh," she said, feeling irrationally relieved. "But that break up in the Great Hall…"

Lavender grinned. "It was quite convincing, wasn't it?"

"Tell me about it. I never actually understood what you were fighting about, though."

"Well," started Lavender, "we had rehearsed a healthy, mutual break up in which we'd both agree that we wanted more in life than each other, and that our relationship had worn out-"

"After two weeks?"

"- and that he knew I was meant to be with Seamus, always and forever. But Seamus sat on the other side of the table and I realized that, for him to hear, I'd have to make a scene. So I yelled 'You bastard, it's all over between us!' at the top of my lungs, threw the pumpkin juice on Ron's face and ran out. He was furious at me later, but it was fun. You should try it sometime."

"You really embarrassed him, Lavender," said Hermione, half smiling, although she was trying to sound reproachful. 

"Well, the twins asked for my autograph and Snape still mentions it every class, but I'm sure Ron doesn't mind," said Lavender casually.

Hermione snorted.

"Ok, so he probably does mind. But right after I left the Great Hall Seamus followed me, Hermione. We got back together at once. You have any idea how perfect that was?" said Lavender, smiling goofily.

"You know, you should really tell Seamus that you and Ron weren't dating. He only talks with Ron if it's to insult him or give him detentions with no reason at all."

"Aw, I know, isn't it cute? He thinks Ron hurt me." 

Hermione glared at her.

"I will tell him. I will. Only not just yet," said Lavender. "And anyway, I don't see why Ron's complaining. I did my part of the deal, didn't I? He got top marks in that Divination homework of his."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Lavender."


	4. Lilac birds and scared little bunnies

A/N: Well, I've tried to speed things up, but it's no use, a month is really the best I could do. I have found out that nice lengthy reviews inspire me, though. And I'm not just saying that so you'll all write long reviews, I mean it. The "Great work, write more!" reviews are great, and they always make me smile, but the thoughtful ones actually make me write faster and with renewed energy. Just thought you should know that. ;)

Anyway, here's chapter 4. Oh, and I don't own anything!

                                                                            *

Hermione closed the _Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five _with a thud. 

"So, Harry, did you understand anything at all?"

Harry chirped.

Hermione set the book aside for a second and sighed. How was she supposed to make Harry study when he was in this condition? 

"Well, today's a Hogsmeade weekend, did you know that, Harry?" she said, straightening the covers around him. "I was going to go, but I wasn't in the mood, especially with you in the hospital wing, so I preferred to come visit you instead."

"We _both_ preferred to come visit you, apparently," came Ron's voice from the doorway. "See how loved you are, you lucky bird?"

"Ron!" said Hermione. "I thought you wanted to go to Hogsmeade."

"And leave Harry alone with the orangutan over there? No way," he said, gesturing to a near bed, where a Hufflepuff boy with six-foot-long arms was sound asleep. 

"Oh."

He seemed normal, Hermione considered. He was even making jokes. Whether that was some kind of happy act because they were in front of Harry or if he really had already got past the... the event, she had no way of knowing. His attitude was a relief (although a little disturbing, somehow) either way. 

"Is he ok?" asked Ron.

"I guess so. Madam Pomfrey said he was going to stay here for a couple of weeks, though."

"_A couple of weeks_?" 

"Yes, Ron, accidents with Transfiguration, especially in humans, take some time to be fixed. Remember the Polyjuice Incident? I was in here for several weeks."

He snickered. "I had forgotten about that."

Hermione stared at him. "That wasn't funny at all, Ron."

"Well, your fur was nothing compared to Harry's purple feathers," said Ron, laughing openly now. "No offense, but you really look ridiculous, mate," he added to Harry, patting his wing.

Hermione smiled. "Well, I suppose that the color of his feathers _do_ clash horribly with his green eyes."

Harry chirped angrily.

"Sorry," said Hermione quickly.

"Yeah," said Ron. "But it _would_ make you look less stupid if you took off those glasses."

Hermione nodded. "Absolutely." She picked up the book she had been reading to Harry.

Ron looked incredulously at it. "What's _that_ for?"

"I know Harry can't do his homework, but he can listen to the chapter we're studying. It's the least he can do. It's the least _we_ can do for him."

"Harry doesn't want to study! He has a beak!" 

Harry chirped. 

Ron pointed at him. "See? He's agreeing with me."

"That could just as well mean 'Please let me study, Ron. I don't want to fail because you're a prat'! You know, the O.W.L.s are coming."

"The O.W.L.s are months away!"

"It's never too soon to start preparing, especially for something as important-"

"I thought you didn't want to be seen as the know-it-all," interrupted Ron in a light, almost casual tone of voice.

Hermione, who had been leafing through the book to find the aforementioned chapter, stopped doing so and looked up at him in surprise.

"What?" he said, noticing her expression.

"Nothing. I just-" she forced herself to look back at the _Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five_ and started turning its pages again hastily. "I thought you wanted to pretend that day never happened, and now you're even making references to it."

Ron stared at her for a while, probably trying to decide how to react to her bringing it up so abruptly. "What gave you the idea that I wanted to pretend it never happened?"

"I know you, ok?" snapped Hermione, releasing all the anger she didn't know she had been keeping. "'Could we not make a big deal out of this,' coming from you, means 'I regret it profusely and please don't ever, ever mention it again or I'll die from embarrassment'! Except you'd never use the word 'profusely'."

Ron looked taken aback. Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. They both looked at him.

"Oh, look, Hermione. Harry's here," said Ron pointedly.

"You want to hide it from _Harry, _now??" she asked, raising her voice.

"What, don't you?"

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, I'm afraid that I will have to ask you to leave," said Madam Pomfrey, walking over to them and putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "You're disturbing my patients." 

Ron turned on his chair and gave her an annoyed look. "_What_ patients? The only one here other than Harry is that bloke over there, who, by the looks of it, not even an earthquake would be able to wake up!"

Madam Pomfrey looked at him severely. "Mr. Weasley..."

"If anything, you have do ask _him_ to leave, because honestly, an earthquake is nothing compared to his snores."

"Ron, don't," murmured Hermione, at the same time Harry chirped warningly.

Madam Pomfrey looked scandalized. "Weasley, Granger, you'd better leave now or I'll have to-"

"No, no," interrupted Hermione, even though she usually knew better than to interrupt Madam Pomfrey. "We're leaving, aren't we, Ron?" she said in a reprimanding voice to Ron.

"I don't see why-"

"Come _on_," she said, pulling him off the chair before he got them both detentions. That would be embarrassing, especially since she was a prefect.

Madam Pomfrey didn't say anything as they left.

"Can you believe her?" said Ron as they walked back to the common room. "'_You're disturbing my patients._'Honestly."

Hermione simply glared at him. 

"Why are you so angry at me?" he asked.

"I'm not angry at you. You're an inconsequential coward, you've always been, why should that start angering me now?" she answered testily.

"I'm a_ what_?" hissed Ron, in a dangerously low voice.

"I was expecting all of this," said Hermione ignoring him and walking faster. "I mean, I knew, from the moment you left that bathroom, that you'd never talk about it."

"Is that what this is all about?" said Ron, jogging a little to catch up with her and blocking her way. "You want to talk? _Fine_, let's talk."

"Why do we need to talk?" she retorted acidly, trying to pass around him. "It was no big deal, was it?"

Ron gave her a withering look and grabbed her arm, pulling her inside the empty Transfiguration classroom. 

"Ron! What on earth...??" she shouted while he closed the door behind them.

"Don't yell," he said, almost yelling himself. "I still don't fully get what's making you so angry."

"Typical you, isn't it?" she snapped. "You never 'fully get' _anything_ I do."

"If you'd just stop being so bloody confusing!" 

"Excuse me, I'm _not_ confusing."

"So why are you talking like this entire situation is my fault? Because, unless I'm very much mistaken, you kissed me back. Or did you conveniently forget that bit?" 

Hermione couldn't believe his nerve. How could he use that against her? "You started it!" she said, well aware that she was sounding like a five-year-old.

"You continued it," retorted Ron, imitating her voice.

Hermione simply glared at him.

"See? You're a walking-talking puzzle even to yourself!" he said, in a smug tone. He had obviously noticed that she didn't know what to say. "Just admit it!"

"Now you're saying that I don't understand myself? I understand myself very well, Ron, thank you very much."

"Well, then. Here's your chance to prove that you do have an explanation for that," he said, crossing his arms.

Then it suddenly dawned on Hermione what Ron's tactic was. She had fallen for it so easily, really; it was so unlike herself. Now she'd have to give him an answer to his question, and he didn't even have to ask it. Pretty clever of him, in fact.

And the truth was, she didn't have any answer. None that she was sure of, anyway. So she took the easy way out. "Well, it was more of a... a reflex action."

"_Reflex action_?" repeated Ron, sounding incredulous and slightly amused. "You're saying that if a Flobberworm kissed you, you'd kiss it back, is that what you're saying?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on now, Ron, that's ridiculous. The idea of a Flobberworm kissing me is too farfetched and disgusting for me to think about it logically."

"What about Malfoy?" he asked, grimacing a little at the thought.

She grimaced too. "I think you've outdone yourself. That's an even more farfetched, _not to mention_ disgusting prospect than that of a Flobberworm kissing me."

"_Hermione_."

"I was shocked, Ron, ok?" she said defensively. "It was all so sudden, I didn't think about what I was doing."

"Shock. Huh," he mumbled to no one in particular. "So, let's say, just hypothetically speaking, if I grabbed you, right now, and I told you clearly what I was going to do in, I don't know, five different languages to make sure you'd understand, and only then I-" 

"I'd push you away and slap you," interrupted Hermione abruptly. Ron's tendency to wonder out loud was getting out of hand. And that would be ok, if it wasn't for her thoughts following suit. 

"All right, then. Just, you know - making sure," he said flatly. Still, there was something about his tone of voice that Hermione couldn't quite figure out.

"That's probably what I would have done once I regained my conscience that day in the bathroom too, if you hadn't run away like a scared little bunny." She didn't want to have a fight, but, she considered, maybe it was better than the course that conversation was taking. Better than the awkward silences. Fights were familiar territory. 

"_A scared little bunny_?" said Ron through clenched teeth, getting as enraged as Hermione expected him to get. 

"Are you going to try to deny that?" she said in a defying voice.

"Of course I am! It's not true!" 

"Oh, so you didn't run away?"

"No! I just – well, I – I don't owe you any explanations, ok?"

"_Face it_, Ron. You're just too much of a coward to kiss me and then look me in the eye."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Ron's reaction to that statement would be. And Hermione would be a hypocrite if she said she wasn't expecting it. 

The kiss in the bathroom had been uncertain and sweet. Intense, but sweet.  Now this… this was anything but sweet. It was an angry kiss. She could feel his rage by the way he was kissing her: resolute and fierce and… well, passionate.

Ron soon let her go, his breath ragged, his lips slightly swollen, and all traces of anger in his expression gone. He simply looked disconcerted. Hermione couldn't help the fleeting impression that she had the same effect on him as he had on her.

"I'm looking at you," he then said huskily. He was indeed looking at her. Glaring would be a more correct term.

Hermione didn't answer. Honestly, what was there to say? She was still amazed by the realization that she had driven him to it on purpose. She had _wanted_ him to kiss her. She still did. And the fact that he hadn't removed his hands from her waist wasn't helping matters much.

"I was waiting for you to 'push me away and slap me', you know," he added, somehow managing to sound both adorable and infuriating at the same time.

"You didn't tell me clearly what you were going to do in five different languages," said Hermione, finding her voice God-knows-where.

Ron actually smiled, although it was clear he tried hard not to. "I can't speak five different languages. Is that absolutely necessary?"

Hermione gave him an 'I can't believe you' look. "_Ron..._" she said in a warning voice and darted her eyes to where his hands were resting.

He followed her gaze and, realizing what she meant, let go of her waist immediately, muttering a barely comprehensible "Right."

He stepped away from her and stared at the floor for a while, the tip of his ears red. Then, probably discovering that the stone pavement wasn't all that interesting, he sat down on the top of one of the school desks and stared off into space instead. 

Hermione was watching the compulsive way in which he was drumming his fingers on the desk when she realized how much the 'scared little bunny' comment had got to him. It was obvious that he wanted to leave as soon as possible, and just as clear that he wouldn't do it. 

"Let me get this straight," said Ron suddenly. He stopped the drumming and jumped off the desk. "Talking is about dealing with a problem in a reasonable and rational way, right?"

Hermione wasn't sure where he was going with that, but nodded anyway. "In theory, yes. Why?"

"Nothing, I was just- well, thinking about the incredibly diplomatic direction our talk has taken," he answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Ron..." she repeated, her warning voice weaker this time.

"_What_, Hermione?" he snapped, his voice somewhat harsher. "No, really, what's the matter? It's not as if we'd never done _that_ before."

His tone made Hermione wince, although he sounded much more angry with himself than with her. Maybe that was exactly the reason she winced. She was used to Ron being angry with her, but the feeling of hating yourself, which she knew fairly well, was something she wouldn't wish for anyone. Especially not him. 

"And it didn't ruin things any more than they were already ruined, anyway," he said, so quietly that Hermione wasn't sure if he was talking to her, to himself, or to the heavens.

She glanced at his distressed expression and then swallowed hard. "You know that thing you said about not making a big deal?"

"Yeah," he said impatiently. "I already know that you don't think that's-"

"No, no, I think you were right."

"You do?" he asked, sounding hopeful. Or apprehensive, she wasn't sure.

"I do," she said, fighting not to let the disgust she was feeling with her own hypocrisy show. Not that Ron ever noticed anything like that, of course. "I mean, there's no reason to overreact. Right?"

Ron looked down at the floor awkwardly for a moment, and then said, "Er- yeah. No reason at all."

"So, are we all right?" she asked anxiously.

"Yeah, I guess so. Friends?" he asked, stretching his right hand out to her, anxiety also transparent in his face.

"Friends," she answered, shaking his hand and regretting it instantly. 

It's really not good to have any kind of physical contact with your best friend when you're trying to convince him that you don't feel anything in his presence. Especially when you're not able to convince even yourself of that.

Hermione let go of his hand as gracefully as she could in that moment and looked down, not aware of the hair that was falling over her eyes, not exactly aware of anything.

She assured herself that she was rational. She was reasonable. She was able to control herself. 

She was also terrible at self-assuring.

And that was when Ron reached out and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. The tips of his fingers brushed against her cheek lightly, and the little assurance Hermione had been able to gather disappeared completely.

Taking a deep breath which didn't help the situation the slightest bit, she looked up at him, fighting the urge to yell, 'Don't _do_ that!' and producing a sound that roughly resembled a 'huh' instead.

He blushed and said sheepishly, "It was in front of your eye."

That did it. Ron had finally achieved his life goal: drive Hermione crazy. Because, really, she'd have to be out of her mind to grab him by the front of his robe and kiss him, just like that, out of nowhere.

And yet, that was exactly what she had just done.

Hermione didn't know which was worse: wanting to kiss Ron and knowing that she shouldn't or actually _kissing _Ron and knowing that she shouldn't. It was like eating an entire chocolate cake while you're on a diet. 

Ron broke the kiss and narrowed his eyes with confusion. "I thought you didn't want to make a big deal out of..." He trailed off.

"I don't," answered Hermione softly, getting as far away from him as she could. It was probably safer that way.

"Then why the hell did you just-"

"Ron," she interrupted, noticing his irked tone of voice. "Could you... could you leave me alone for a while?"

"Oh, you're throwing me out of the room now?" 

"I suppose," said Hermione, wishing that he'd just go already.

Ron sent her an incredulous look and left without another word. The door slammed shut, and Hermione felt incredibly helpless as she realized that she wanted him to come back.


	5. Christmas in the hospital wing

A/N: Menyl asked in her review how many chapters this was going to have. It's going to have about seven or eight chapters, and then an epilogue… And cass asked if Hermione was ever going to tell Ron that she knew about him and Lavender... Well, not really. But the "Lavender Issue", as I like to call it, will be dealt with soon enough, don't worry. =0)

I would like to dedicate the Torpidspek Potion to Courtney, who loved the name "Torpidspek" for some reason. =)

Oh, and I was going through my reviews to see the questions and copy the e-mail addresses of the people who wanted me to warn them about updates, when it hit me how wonderful you all are. Really, I should have done that a long time ago, but thank you SO much to all you reviewers for being so great, especially since I always make you wait so long... You are all "bloody brilliant"! =0)

                                                                                        *

Ron didn't know what to think.

He had come back from the Transfiguration classroom a very long time ago (or at least it _seemed_ like a long time), and the more he tried to understand what had happened, the more his head hurt.

Sufficient to say, he had a pretty bad headache.

"Ron?"

For a brief moment he thought it was Hermione, and jumped in his seat. He really didn't want to deal with her. But that wasn't her voice. Thankfully. He turned around.

"You've been there staring at the ceiling ever since I came back from Hogsmeade. What's wrong?" Oh, Ginny. Almost as bad as Hermione, she was.

"Well, I-" Ron stopped himself. He had been about to tell his sister that Madam Pomfrey had thrown him out of the hospital wing, and that Hermione had got angry at him for some reason that he still didn't understand. That Hermione had let him kiss her, even though she said she wouldn't. That she had agreed not to make a big deal out of everything, even though she had seemed disgusted at the idea at first. That she had kissed him out of nowhere, even though she had agreed to be friends. And that then she had decided it would be fun to throw him out, just to mess up with his mind a little more. 

He couldn't tell Ginny that.

"Let's just say I've got thrown out of a room twice today."

"Why were you thrown out?" asked Ginny in her usual 'I'm a nosy sister, I have to know everything' way and sitting down across from him.

"Because females are very weird creatures, that's why," said Ron. There was nothing wrong with being vague to get some time. And it wasn't as if he was lying.

"Oh," said Ginny, obviously failing to understand her brother's logic. "I see. What did you do to be thrown out?"

_Nosy, nosy, nosy._ "Please go take care of your life, Ginny." 

"Oh, Ron, come on, you know I won't make fun of you," said Ginny, as if that was the problem. 

"God, Ginny, you're not going to give up, are you?"

Ginny grinned. She really did enjoy being annoying, didn't she? "No. I'll stay here until the end of time if necessary, but you're going to tell me."

"And I thought the day couldn't get any worse," he muttered under his breath.

But Ginny wasn't paying attention. She was looking at something over his shoulder.

"What?" He started to turn to see what it was. 

"Ron!" said Ginny abruptly.

He looked back at her, a little startled, and gave her a quizzical look.

"Er- You don't need to look, it was nothing," said Ginny quickly.

"Nothing?" asked Ron, turning around again. That time Ginny let him.

There was nothing. He turned back to Ginny.

"See?" she said in a weird voice. "Nothing." 

"Um... OK," said Ron.

"So, you don't want to tell me, huh? That's too bad," said Ginny lightly, and didn't even wait for his answer before standing up. "Anyway, I have to go."

"What happened to 'I'll stay here until the end of time if necessary'?" asked Ron, and then realized how stupid it was to remind her of that. 

"Oh, yeah, well, I've changed my mind," Ginny said curtly. She went up the stairs and disappeared from view.

Ron watched after her and shook his head. "Right, it's official. I'll never understand women."

*

Hermione rushed into her dormitory and threw herself heavily on her bed.

Her heart was still pounding. How was she supposed to know he would be there? It had been a very long time since he had left the classroom - well, it _seemed_ like a long time... He shouldn't still be in the common room. 

But he was. Hermione had come back and he had been there, talking to Ginny. She had gestured to Ginny to keep quiet and had almost run to her room. There was a chance Ron hadn't seen her. Yes, he hadn't seen her. He couldn't have.

She groaned and looked up at the ceiling, trying hard not to think about Ron. Or rather, trying hard not to think, period. She had already thought too much in that Transfiguration classroom after Ron's departure. It had left her drained and annoyed, and she wasn't sure if thinking was really worth it. 

"Hermione?"

"Ginny, hi," she said, sitting up on the four-poster.

"You know, Hermione," said Ginny softly, sitting down next to her. "If anything's bothering you, if you need to get anything off your chest... I'm here for you. You do know that, right?" 

Hermione smiled weakly at her. "I know."

"OK," Ginny said and then added quietly, "You don't want to talk to me about it, do you?"

"No, I don't," agreed Hermione, as much as she felt terrible about it. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

"No, no, don't be. It's ok. You have every right to keep whatever it is that's bugging you to yourself." 

That was one of the best things about Ginny: she never pressed Hermione to tell her anything.  

"You remember I told you about that girl Viktor broke up with me for?" said Hermione after a while, feeling the need to at least tell Ginny _something_.

"Ingrid Plonktoplov? Of course."

"You remember her _surname_?"

"No." Ginny grinned. "But I knew you wouldn't notice the difference. All those Durmstrang surnames sound alike." She caught Hermione's look. "Oh, admit it, Splingtolov sounds cool."

Hermione couldn't help smiling back at her. "You said Plonktoplov before, not Splingtolov."

"It's still cool," said Ginny, shrugging. "But anyway, what about her?"

"I found out that Viktor... Viktor kissed her. That's why I was crying on Thursday, I had a serious self-esteem crisis... I still feel stupid about it, but..." She trailed off.

"Oh, Hermione, that's _not_ stupid!" said Ginny immediately.

"It's _totally_ stupid, Ginny. Don't try to make me feel better."

"I'm not. I really don't think-"

"I'd appreciate it if we could drop the subject," snapped Hermione, and immediately felt bad for taking her frustration out on Ginny.

There was silence for a while, until Ginny fidgeted a little, making the mattress squeak. "Er- so, how was- how was Harry?" she asked, visibly trying to seem like she didn't care, which only made it even more obvious how much she actually cared.

"Why didn't you ask Ron?" asked Hermione, and wanted to hit herself upon noticing how much her tone sounded like Ginny's.

"He didn't seem to be in the mood to talk to me."

"Well, Ginny, if you want to know how Harry is, why don't you go see by yourself?" Good. A change of subject. Anything was better than talking about Ron.

"You know what?" Ginny answered shakily after a while. "Maybe I will."

 "I think you should," said Hermione, taking Ginny's hand in hers and squeezing it reassuringly.

Ginny smiled at her, cheeks slightly red.

Ginny's blush reminded Hermione of Ron, and she felt like hitting herself again. Great, she had been able to spend a whole of three seconds without thinking about him.

"Er- Ginny," she said, startling herself. "I know we never talk about it, but... Tell me if I'm crossing a line here."

"OK," said Ginny, looking up at her, obviously wondering what could be so important.

Hermione let go of her hand gently and took a deep breath. "Being in love. What does it feel like? I mean, specifically."

Ginny looked taken by surprise. "What being in love feels like?" she repeated, apparently slightly embarrassed that Hermione had, even indirectly, brought her feelings for Harry up. "Well... It's just...  hard." 

Hermione nodded, wondering if she had gone too far. They talked about boys occasionally, but never about feelings. Their conversations about Viktor had been short and to the point, and Harry was rarely mentioned, they didn't _talk_ about him. They never talked about Harry.

"But you want specifics?" continued Ginny. "Well, I... I reckon that when you're in love with a boy, he's always on your mind. The _most_ unlikely and stupid things remind you of him." Ginny pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. "And when you're around him, you just lose it. Your intelligence, your sense of decency and pretty much your mind in general, I mean. It's very, very hard to think straight. It can be done, with lots of practice, but it took me years... Oh." She blushed a bright red when she realized that she had just outright admitted the way she felt, but Hermione just smiled.

"It's ok," she whispered. "I know."

"Yeah, well... I know you know, I just... didn't mean to actually say it..." said Ginny nervously, burying her face in her knees. "But maybe it's better this way," she said. Or at least that's what Hermione thought she said. Her voice was muffled. Ginny looked up. "Anyway, er, what was I talking about again?"

"About how you can't think straight around the boy you're in love with," said Hermione, wondering if Ginny could hear her breathing, so loud it was.

"Oh, right. Er... And everything he says means a lot more than anyone else's words. I mean, a half-compliment, coming from him, means the world to you. If you believe it, of course. And a comment about you that _could_ be taken in a bad way hurts more than if anyone else insulted your mother."

Hermione bit her lip.

"And whenever you're in a room with him, you're always following him with your eyes, consciously or not. And when he's not in the room-"

"-you turn around upon every little noise, hoping he'll come in," Hermione filled in quietly.

"Exactly." Ginny turned to look at Hermione and smiled slightly. 

Hermione groaned and fell back on her bed. "This _can't_ be happening."

"I'm not even going to ask what you mean by that," said Ginny without looking at her.

"Sorry, Ginny, I just feel uncomfortable talking about it with you."

"Uncomfortable, why?" asked Ginny, and Hermione could actually _hear_ the cheeky grin in her voice. "Only because I'm his sister?"

Hermione sat back up, feeling her eyes widening. "Um..." she was able to mutter finally. "Well... I... I mean... yes, actually."

"Oh," said Ginny, her grin widening. Hermione had a feeling she was kind of relieved that she and Harry weren't the subject anymore. "You're right about keeping it from me, then. It would be too weird, you know. I think you really shouldn't say a word."

"I won't," said Hermione, wavering between being amused, being embarrassed, or both. "I wouldn't want you to know about it."

"Good thing I don't," said Ginny. 

Hermione didn't answer. 

 "Hermione?" came Ginny's tearful voice, after a few seconds that seemed like an eternity.

"Yes?"

"I want you to keep in mind," said Ginny, her voice cracking. "That if I did know about it, I'd be very happy. I'd tell you that I couldn't think of anyone better for my brother than you, and I'd hug you and tell you that you're amazing."

"And I'd tell you that you're completely out of your mind," said Hermione softly, nevertheless touched.

They didn't say anything for quite a while, until Ginny, quite unexpectedly, threw her arms around Hermione. Hermione hugged her back, a little surprised, noticing that Ginny's eyes were bright with tears.

"Don't cry, Ginny," she said, patting her back.

"Oh, Hermione," Ginny sniffed, "I mean it, you're amazing."

She then stood up and dashed out of the dormitory.

"Well, you're not the _only_ one out of your mind, Ginny," Hermione muttered to herself after the door closed. 

Well, at least it didn't slam, like when Ron- 

She stopped that thought. What was it that Ginny had said again? Oh, yes: _"The most unlikely and stupid things remind you of him."_

Hermione sighed. She was in trouble. 

She was most definitely in trouble.

*

Ron threw his quill on top of the parchment and buried his face in his arms in frustration.

Potions was already hard on its own. Now, when he couldn't concentrate, it was simply impossible. _What's the right coloration of the Torpidspek Potion so it will corrode exactly two and a half inches of oak wood?_ Really, what kind of question was that? And why would he want to corrode exactly two and a half inches of oak wood, anyway? He needed help with the stupid paper and he needed it fast. 

He missed the time when he could just go over to Hermione and copy her homework. She had been avoiding him for a week now. Of course, he hadn't been jumping at the opportunity to talk to her either, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Hermione was completely out of her mind. 

No, wait, that wasn't it... 

Well... that was a pretty big part of the point, anyway. Of course, he couldn't remember what the point was, or if there was even a point to start with... He started drawing little circles around the words in his assignment. The point didn't matter, really, now that he thought about it. In fact, how can something have a point, if it doesn't even make any sense?

He had made a resolution to never be around Hermione anymore while she was crying. It was just... he couldn't stand to watch it; he felt uncomfortable and helpless and somehow responsible for it, even if he wasn't. It was almost pathetic, really, how he'd do anything for her to stop. And clearly, kissing her was not the best way to go about it. Although it _did_ get her to quit the crying, he noted not without some amusement. 

But Hermione didn't matter. What had made his thoughts go in that direction, anyway? 

Oh, yes, homework. About the Torpidspek Potion. He needed help with it and he needed it fast. 

*

"Er- Hermione?" said someone behind her chair in the common room.

"Yes?" she said automatically, and then squeezed her eyes shut as it dawned on her who the owner of the voice was.  She had missed Ron. A lot. Maybe more than would be considered healthy, and she hated that. Their talks in the hospital wing had consisted purely of "Hi"s, "See you"s and "Seems like Harry's getting better"s lately. They hadn't addressed each other directly during that time, and the eye contact had been practically nonexistent. Each waiting for the other to take the first step, which no one ever did. 

Well, apparently Ron was doing it now... What could he possibly want?

"Well, um... You know how the O.W.L.s are coming up..."

Homework. Hermione's eyes snapped open in irritation. Always homework. Of course, why would Ron start a conversation with her otherwise?

"Nice of you to worry about it now," she said flatly, putting her quill down and turning around on her chair to look up at him.

"I really need help with Potions. This assignment's impossible, really, what was Snape thinking?! I can't for the life of me figure out this one question, it's so absurdly-"

"About the coloration of the Torpidspek Potion?" said Hermione. Ron had been rambling. He did it when he was nervous. And when he was talking about Snape. When he was both... She couldn't imagine for how long he'd keep talking if she hadn't interrupted.

"Yeah, that one," said Ron, letting his hands drop (he had been gesturing wildly during his indignant rant).

"Oh, I know, I had to search almost the entire library for the answer..." She pulled _The Great Book of Potion Experiences: Everything You Have Never Wanted (and Will Never Need) to Know Regarding Three Thousands of Potions Which You Have Most Certainly Never Heard Of - Vol. VII_ out of her bag and handed it to Ron. "Here."

"This book must have about 2000 pages," he said matter-of-factly, taking it from her.

"1873, in fact. Is that a problem?" asked Hermione, knowing full well that, to Ron, it certainly was.

"I'll have to read a 1873-page book to find a lousy answer?" he said, leafing through it. "This thing is so old that it doesn't even have an index."

"Well, if you want to do well on your O.W.L.s, you have to learn how to do research."

"I can do research," said Ron defensively. 

Hermione started giving him a skeptical look, but stopped herself as memories of their third year came flooding to her. Ron had spent several hours in the library, searching for ways to prove Buckbeak's innocence in a trial. And he had found them. Of course, it hadn't made the slightest difference, after all, since Lucius Malfoy had influenced the jury, but that didn't matter. Ron did know how to do research – and quite well at that. Before she could say anything, though, Ron continued talking.

"But there's no way I'm going to look for anything in this book. It's just... It's... Listen."  He opened it at a random page and started reading in a posh voice. _"In the year 302, Orlean Iswepwold, disregarding his previous frustrated attempt of creating a _- too lazy to figure out how to pronounce that – _Potion, decided he had finally discovered a method of making it work and brewed a mixture of_ – blah blah blah, three lines with the ingredients that I'm going to skip... – _However, it did not work. In 303, Spenk Spoterson endeavored to prepare it correctly, by way of a mixture of _– another three lines _–, but it did not work either. Also in 303, Liam Alfanger brewed a mixture of_ – five lines this time _-, which nearly worked, but did not. He attempted yet again a month later, brewing a mixture of… _And it just goes on and on! I mean, who'd have the patience to read this?"

"I did," said Hermione curtly.

He raised an eyebrow at her and turned some pages. "_In 397, Harlem Kerpson brewed a mixture…_ blah blah blah... Oh, look, surprise! It didn't work." He closed the book hard, making dust fly everywhere. "I don't think I've ever seen so much useless information at once. I can't believe you've read that." 

"It's not that useless..." said Hermione, waving her hand in the air to try to clear the dust. "You see, in 623, Althaam Gilgwood brews a mixture that actually works."

"Oh, really? And it took the author what, only 50 pages to get there?"

"All right, so it's a dull book," she granted. "But it's the only way of finding the answer."

"Unless you tell me what the answer is."

"Oh, no, Ron. I'm sorry, I can't give you the answers to your homework."

"Hermione..." he whined. "I'm never going to be able to read the whole book on time. In fact, I'm never going to be able to read the whole book, period. And Snape hates me; you know he'll give me extra homework because I couldn't do that one little question... Please?"

_Honestly_. Ron probably did this on purpose. She couldn't give him the answer, and he kept giving her those puppy dog eyes. Hermione wished she could stop thinking it was extremely cute, but alas, she had learnt the hard way that such thoughts could not be controlled.

Hermione sighed. "Fine." She took the book from him and turned it to the part about the potion.

"You've _memorized the page_?" said Ron, sitting down on a chair next to her.

She gave him a scathing look and snapped "Shut up", internally grateful that he felt sufficiently at ease around her to make such a comment, and probably even more so that she was comfortable enough to tell him off.

And then Ron pulled his chair closer, and Hermione tensed immediately.

_He wants to see the book. Calm down. Stop being stupid. He's just doing it so he can see the book.... _

The ease had been good while it lasted.

"Look," she said, pushing the book in front of him and dragging her chair away. "You can have it. I already know what it says."

Well, _that_ had been obvious.

Ron looked up from the book at her a moment later and smirked. "Well, well, will you look at that." His eyes moved back to the page. "_In the year 718, Jostein Keekerspelt, wishing to create a Torpidspek Potion, brewed a mixture of-"_

"All right, all right, I know," interrupted Hermione, placing a hand on his arm to stop him.

His smirk faded, and she could swear that his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly to where her hand was. Hermione let go of his arm as soon as she realized what she was doing.

"I know," she repeated softly, doing her best to pretend nothing happened. "You don't have to rub it in." 

"Just thought it was interesting," he said, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 

He was playing along. Hermione held the urge to sigh in relief. 

"Right, the Torpidspek Potion is an acid; it has lot of uses that aren't important right now, along with being able to corrode any kind of wood. The darker it is, the bigger the hole it creates." 

"And what's the right coloration of it so it'll corrode two and a half inches of oak wood?" asked Ron, taking a quill and a piece of parchment out of his bag.

"Bright red, like... Like your hair," she said, starting to reach for it. She soon realized what kind of trouble that action would probably cause, though, and stopped in mid-movement, putting her hand back down and crossing her arms tightly.

"My hair's orange," said Ron, apparently oblivious to Hermione's inner struggle.

"No, it's not. It's a very bright red."

"I know my hair, Hermione," he said, running a hand through it.

Hermione bit her lip. _No one knows your hair better than I do, Ron._

She shook her head and decided to change the subject. If she didn't, she would probably end up communicating that thought aloud to Ron, or doing something equally stupid. She had been doing a lot of stupid things around him lately. "Right, um, anyway, you have to be careful so you won't make it darker than it's supposed to be and corrode the wood too much." 

"How do I know if it's too dark?"

"You don't. I suppose that experienced Potion masters, like Professor Snape, probably know from experience, but amateurs like us... Well, we just have to cross our fingers and hope for the best."

He smiled. "Yeah, I've always thought that was the best way to go about stuff. It's not always effective, but at least you're being honest about it. After all, isn't everything in life an uncertainty?"

Hermione blinked.

"What?" questioned Ron, giving her a weird look.

"It's just... Well, it's not like you to say something like that. I mean, it's great, and deep, and poetic, and... and so very not you. I mean-" 

"Er... Actually, William Sommers said that," interrupted Ron, his ears turning pink. "I just thought it was cool."

Hermione felt a wave of pride that she knew Ron so well. He hadn't said that, after all. It had been a man called William Sommers. William Sommers, the one who... Wait a second. "William Sommers?" 

"Cannons Keeper."

"Oh." _Of course._

And then there was silence. Hermione had grown used to the silences; they had been quite frequent between the two of them lately. She was surprised that they hadn't died of boredom during their visits to the hospital wing: they would hardly talk to each other, and, well... it was very difficult to maintain a conversation with Harry.

Ron looked up at her, having finished writing his answer. "Er... So, have you finished reading this?" he asked, closing the book and holding it up.

"Yes, why? Piqued your interest, did it?"

"What? No!" he said quickly, looking affronted that she could even suggest that. "I was just thinking that having to carry this incredibly heavy thing around all the time... It can't be good for your health."

That was Ron, apologizing. Never in her life had Hermione heard a proper apology from Ron: he expressed regret by showing her, in one little way or another, that he cared about her. It was great to know she hadn't lost him. She smiled.

"So, I probably should return it as soon as possible, then."

"I'm no Madam Pomfrey, but I reckon your back would be grateful," he said, shrugging.

And suddenly a thought occurred to her out of nowhere. "Are you going away tomorrow for Christmas break?"

How could she not know that? Awkwardness or no awkwardness, he was her friend. It was terrible that they had let things get to that point.

"No, are you?" said Ron, looking like he was thinking something along the same lines.

"My parents wanted me to spend Christmas at home, but I wrote a letter to Mum explaining Harry's condition. She got a bit shocked that my friend had been turned into a giant canary-"

Ron snickered.

"-but she let me stay here to keep him company. It must be horrible to spend Christmas in the hospital wing, mustn't it?" 

"Well, we'll soon find out."

"True," said Hermione, standing up and putting her things in her bag. "Well, then. I'll stop by the library now and then I can meet you in the-"

"The hospital wing, yeah," Ron filled in. "We don't seem to do anything else."

"I know, but Harry-"

"It was just a comment, Hermione. You know I know that Harry needs us there."

Hermione nodded. "Right, so I'll see you there, ok?" She threw her bag over her shoulder and picked up the book.

"Er- Hermione?" said Ron as soon as she turned to leave. "I'll go with you. I mean, it's not as if I have anything better to do, anyway."

Hermione froze at that prospect. Being around Ron was very stressful, having to watch herself constantly. She wasn't sure if it was worth it.

Oh, who was she kidding? Of course it was worth it.

She grinned. "You can come if you carry the book."

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "That monster?" He stood up and snatched the book from her, muttering, "I swear, if I weren't so bored..."

"Just don't drop it," she said, starting to put Ron's things in his bag. He had a tendency to leave everything lying around.

"Oh, you found out about my evil plan," he said, watching her and not making the slightest motion to help.

Hermione ignored him and handed him his bag. 

Ron murmured something that sounded awfully like "thanks". It was enough to make her smile.

                                                                             *

So, Christmas was here.

Ron tossed Harry's present from one hand to the other and looked over at Hermione, who was walking down the corridor next to him.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was good to have her back. Things weren't exactly the same between them, but really, it had only been three days since they had stopped avoiding each other. All considered, things were much better than Ron could have ever hoped for.

And he knew that, as long as they never mentioned the… the stuff they shouldn't mention, soon it would be as if nothing had happened. Harry would be back, and it would be as though Bloody Krum's sister had never sent that ruddy letter. It would be as though he had never followed Hermione to that bathroom, and as though he had never kissed her. Although it had felt quite nice- argh!

Ron clutched the package hard in his hand and glanced over at Hermione, irrationally worried that she might have somehow heard his thoughts. She hadn't. Or at least, if she had, she was doing a wicked good job at hiding it.

Usually, when that particular thought came to him, he just scoffed at it and forced himself to think about something safe, like Quidditch. Today, however, for some reason... He gave Hermione one last glance, to make sure she was still distracted, and allowed himself to contemplate it for the first time.

It _had_ felt nice to kiss Hermione. It had. He tightened his grip on the package and quickened his pace to get some distance, suddenly aware of how close she was.

Hell, kissing her always felt great, until the little voice inside his head started screaming: _That's Hermione you're kissing! You're kissing Hermione!_

That little voice always knocked some reason into him. And then he would wonder how come _Hermione_ had caused him to lose his reason in the first place.

He ran his free hand through his hair and shoved it into his pocket. Damn, now he remembered why he usually blocked these thoughts out. He couldn't start thinking these things. He'd have to spend the whole day right next to her in the hospital wing, because of Harry. It was Christmas, after all.

Hermione caught up with him and said, startling Ron slightly, "So, Christmas is here, huh?"

"Yeah, I..." He cleared his throat and avoided her eyes. "I was just thinking about Christmas."

She simply said, "Oh," although her look lingered on him a little longer than it would have if she thought he was acting normally.

Couldn't she keep talking just a little bit longer? At least if she kept talking he could distract himself a little from... well, her. Kind of weird, but at least he could think about what she was saying, whatever it was, and not about her and about how she-

He stopped that thought right there. 

So, the Cannons, huh? They had lost a game by only thirty points that week, hadn't they? They were seventh in the league now. They might have a shot at winning the championship, if the Falmouth Falcons lost to the Tutshill Tornados by... two thousand points, and then the Tornados lost to the Cannons by a thousand and fifty points. It wasn't _that_ impossible. 

They entered the hospital wing.

"... and then Cho did this... this _dive_ thing, it was amazing. I don't think they have a name for what she did, it was-"

Ron turned his gaze to Harry's bed. Fred and George were sitting beside it, apparently telling Harry about the Ravenclaw-Slytherin match before the break.

"Oh, please, George, it wasn't that great, she just-"

"Were we watching the same game, Fred? It was _amazing_, Harry, I'm telling you."

"I thought it was wicked cool, myself," piped in Ron. He had considered informing the twins that he had already told Harry all about that game, but he was too happy that he wouldn't have to be practically alone with Hermione to care about that. So what if they wanted to tell it again? Harry loved Quidditch (and Cho) too much to mind listening to it twice, anyway.

Both his brothers looked up at him.

"_Thank_ you, Ron," said George.

"No one asked your opinion, Ron," said Fred.

"We were wondering when you two would come," said George.

Ron pulled over a chair and sat down next to George. Hermione sat on a chair next to him.

"Happy Christmas," she said.

"Yeah, Happy Christmas," repeated Ron.

"Oh, I hope you two are having a smashing Christmas, because George and I certainly are," said Fred, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"What's got into him?" asked Hermione.

George snickered and said, "He had a-" 

"George..." interrupted Fred.

"Oh, I promised not to tell," said George immediately. He made sure Fred wasn't looking before mouthing, "Angelina."

"Ah," mouthed Ron and Hermione. 

"I know you're talking about me," said Fred in a singsong voice, still not looking at them.

"Aren't we self-centered?" said George, winking at Ron and Hermione. 

"So," asked Hermione to the twins. "Are you going to stay here the whole day?"

George opened his mouth to reply but Fred beat him to it, giving his twin a look. "Yeah, nothing better to do."

George looked amused.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, but she broke eye contact almost immediately and turned to Fred.

"But loads of people are staying in Hogwarts for Christmas break," she said, and then added pointedly, "Including Angelina."

Fred frowned.

"We wanted to organize a big Christmas party with everyone for Harry, but then Katie pointed out that Madam Pomfrey would probably kick all of us out," said George. "We thought she had a point, so..."

"It was going to be one hell of a party," said Fred. "Even Seamus said he'd come."

Ron sat up straight on his chair. "Seamus? But doesn't he...?"

"Wish he could stick your head into a cauldron full of dung and hold it there until you suffocate and die a very disgusting death? Yeah, absolutely," said George, a little amused. "Said so himself."

"But you know, it's Christmas and all," said Fred. "Time to be all sappy and sweet."

"Ah," said Ron curtly, wishing they would drop the subject. Obviously, they didn't.

"I don't understand why he's never punched you," mused Fred.

"Yeah, it must be hard to sleep in the same dormitory as you without killing you in the dead of night, since he hates your guts so much," said George.

"Yeah," said Ron, now feeling extremely annoyed. 

Fred picked up on his tone of voice and asked innocently, "What, Ron? Don't like to talk about that?"

Ron raised his eyebrows at him and said sarcastically, "Why wouldn't I like to talk about how I'm going to be murdered in my sleep?"

"Should have thought of that before you went off dating Lavender, little brother," said George.

"Right," said Ron, looking down. He hated that whole Lavender business. It was over and done with, couldn't people just _let it go_? 

"Could we please talk about something else?" said Hermione's voice, sounding exasperated. 

Ron looked up at her and couldn't help smiling gratefully. She gave him a tight-lipped (and very forced-looking) smile and turned back to Harry.

"She's right, it's Christmas," said Fred.

"Yeah, and look how irritated Harry looks," said George.

"Harry's always looking irritated those days. And they say lilac's a soothing color," said Fred, tutting.

"I reckon that that rule doesn't quite work when _you're_ the lilac one, huh?" said George.

"Well, Hedwig seemed to like it," said Fred, grinning.

"She did, didn't she?" replied George, an identical grin on his face.

"Er- what?" asked Ron.

"Oh, we brought Hedwig here to wish Harry a Happy Christmas," said Fred.

"Yeah, Madam Pomfrey had a fit when she found an owl in here," said George.

"But before being kicked out, Hedwig definitely didn't seem to mind that Harry now looks more like a bizarre humanoid feathery thing than a canary... Totally coming on to him, she was," said Fred.

Harry made a strange sound. Ron didn't know birds could blush. He laughed. Even Hermione cracked a smile.

"Say, do you know why all these people are spending Christmas break in school? I mean, there isn't a ball or anything," asked Ron suddenly.

George shrugged. "I reckon that's because Hogwarts is the safest place in the world."

"Yeah, and now that You-Know—" started Fred, and then trailed off. "You know."

The _air_ changed. Ron could feel it. It suddenly felt hard to breathe. Damn, he had forgotten about You-Know-Who in those last two weeks without Harry. Harry was the one who thought that it was ridiculous to pretend the Dark Lord hadn't come back, and that everyone should just face the problem and learn to deal with it. But Harry wasn't able to talk anymore, and all the students who were entirely human seemed to disagree with him. No one mentioned You-Know-Who, Dark Wizards, Dark Marks or anything of the sort. Ever. Ron personally thought it was a pretty good tactic to not talk about those things. Ignoring a problem might not be the best way to solve it, but it sure saved a lot of stress, and you could just forget about it most of the time. 

Well, maybe not in _all_ cases.

He looked over at Hermione. She was looking at him, but as their eyes met she quickly diverted her attention to Harry again.

"Oh," said Hermione, breaking the silence (who'd have thought that Fred and George could keep quiet?), and placing her present at the foot of Harry's bed. "Here, Harry, Happy Christmas."

Ron remembered he too had a present, and followed suit. "Mum made you a Weasley jumper, too, but I'll give it to you when you're in - er, _shape_ to wear it."

"Oh, presents! Can we open them?" asked George. He and Fred seemed to be absolutely cheerful again. Although Fred's joyfulness didn't quite reach his eyes.

"No, _Harry_ has to open his presents," said Hermione, in her best bossy voice.

"But he doesn't have hands," whined George.

"Well," said Fred, examining the end of Harry's wing, "his hands _are_ growing back." He moved some feathers back and pointed. "Look, can you see the half-fingers?"

Ron, Hermione and George leaned in closer to look and said, "Ewww," in almost perfect synchrony.

Fred grinned. "It _is_ kind of gross, isn't it?"

Harry was glaring at them.

Fred patted Harry's head, and then seemed to remember something. "Oh, he can already talk, did you know?" 

"Oh, right, we got him to say 'I'm Harry'! Show them, Harry," said George.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I... I..." he looked like he was making a huge effort to get this single syllable out. "I... I'm – chirp."

"Oh, close," said Fred.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! Haven't I told you _not to force Mr. Potter to speak_?" said Madam Pomfrey in an almost-yell. She walked over to them, holding a fuming goblet. "His vocal chords are still fragile and roughly half of them are human! He might never be able to talk again if they are strained!"

"Happy Christmas to you too," said George, pretending to be deeply hurt.

Madam Pomfrey held the goblet in front of Harry. "Here, Mr. Potter, drink this," she said, still glaring at the twins. She waited until Harry was finished and left without another word.

"Did anyone else think she was totally overreacting?" said Fred, as soon as she was gone.

Ron happened to think Madam Pomfrey _was_ overreacting, but _he_ wouldn't risk making Harry into a mute forever. And he wouldn't want to agree with Fred out loud now, especially considering Hermione's "How can she be overreacting, you prat?? She's a professional!" look. He didn't want to get into an argument with her.

"I mean," continued Fred. "We just wanted him to talk, he's quite boring like that... And she yells at us because there's a tiny chance his vocal chords might split in two?"

"_Fred_!" said a voice at the doorway.

Fred froze. And then, seeming almost afraid, he looked up to face the owner of the voice. "Angelina."

Angelina looked livid. "You're making Harry split his vocal chords in two?? You're... after all that I've –" She suddenly cut herself short, shook her head slightly and said, her voice surprisingly gentle, "You know what? I'm not going to yell at you again. I come in peace."

Fred looked surprised. "So you mean...?"

"I still think you should spend the whole day here, but-" She grinned. "I can stay with you, if you want."

Fred's grin almost split his face in two (ironically enough, considering the conversation about Harry's vocal chords). "Angelina, the day I don't want you to stay with me you can send me straight to St. Mungo's, because I'll have lost my mind."

George made a loud retching noise. Angelina slapped him across the head.

"Ouch," said George, rubbing the place her hand had hit.

Angelina smiled coyly, "Oops, sorry, George, my hand slipped."

George glared at her.

Fred laughed. "That's my girl."

George glared at Fred. 

"Hi Ron, Hermione, Happy Christmas," said Angelina, walking over to Fred. "How's our favorite Seeker doing?"

"He's all right, I think," said Hermione.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, we can't know for sure, he-" 

"Are you all right, Harry?" asked George.

"Chirp," said Harry.

"He's all right, Angelina," said George, and then added, noticing everyone's looks, "One for yes and two for no."

"Why didn't _we_ think of that?" said Hermione in her Oh-my-God-I-hate-it-when-I'm-not-perfect voice, turning to Ron.

Ron shrugged.

Angelina pouted. "Oh, look, Fred, the chairs are so far away..."

Fred pulled Angelina into his lap. "God, you're heavy, woman," he said, pretending to have trouble breathing. 

Angelina looked at him over her shoulder. "Well, it isn't _that_ far, I can always..."

"Oh, don't you dare stand up, missy," growled Fred, putting his arm around her.

She giggled and kissed his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere," she said softly, putting her arms around his neck.

Ron exchanged a look with George, suddenly understanding his brother's urge to be sick. Even Harry looked uneasy.

"When's Harry coming out of here?" asked Angelina.

"I'm not sure. Apparently it's harder to fix than Madam Pomfrey originally thought," said Hermione.

"You two must miss him," said Angelina.

"Oh, I don't think they mind the alone time," said George to Angelina in a very suggestive voice, while Fred made kissy noises in her ear.  Angelina looked amused.

"Shut up," mumbled Ron, his heart accelerating. Oh God. Was there any chance Hermione hadn't heard that? He certainly wasn't going to look at her to check, he knew he would only get even redder than he already was.

Fred opened his mouth, probably to tease him further, when Ron's eyes spotted a flash of red hair at the doorway.

"Ginny!"

Ginny jumped. Ron was relieved all of a sudden, and quite happy to see his sister (which was a rare occurrence nowadays). How long had she been standing there?

"Hi everyone," said Ginny, very pink.

"Oh, hi, Ginny. Glad you could come," said Hermione's voice beside Ron. She sounded like she was smiling. He wasn't sure of that, since confirming it would involve his looking at her, which he didn't plan to do anytime soon.

"Ginny!" said George delightedly. "What are you doing here?" he asked innocently.

Fred whispered something in Angelina's ear. She looked at Ginny and back at Fred, and then hit Fred over the head.

"Hey!" he said indignantly.

"Oh, I thought you liked my violent streak," she purred.

"Not when it's directed at me!"

"Stop being gross or get used to it."

"You're so dominating. I like that. In fact..." He whispered something into her ear.

"Fred!" she said, giggling and hitting him again. 

"Ouch! That hurts!" he complained and then grinned. "It was totally worth it, though."

Angelina rolled her eyes and mumbled, "You're impossible."

Fred grinned even more. "So, Ginny, I second George's question. What are you doing here?"

"Please tell me it had nothing to do with your brother's sick suggestion," said Angelina.

"I don't know what my brother's sick suggestion was," said Ginny, completely red now.

"I was just telling her that you-" started Fred, and was promptly stopped by Angelina's hand clamped over his mouth. "Mmmphh."

"Believe me, Ginny, you don't want to know," said Angelina, as Fred released himself.

"I want to know," said George.

Angelina glared at him. Fred mouthed, "Later," over her shoulder.

Then Hermione's voice came from behind Ron. "I'm sure she's just here to spend Christmas with her family."

Yeah, right.

"Wouldn't want to be the only Weasley out there, would I?" said Ginny, making sure to show everyone exactly how bad a liar she was.

"Of course not," said George seriously. "Wouldn't want to be alone and vulnerable in this cold, cruel world." He could only keep his face straight for a few seconds (Ron was impressed) and then he started laughing uncontrollably. 

Fred joined him and Angelina snickered. Ron snorted.  

Harry seemed quite embarrassed. Ginny took one look at him and smiled amusedly, looking away and sitting down.

"He looked less pathetic when he was entirely a bird," said Ron, noticing his sister's amusement.

"Yeah, too bad you didn't come sooner, you would have caught him in a much better form," said George.

"Yeah," said Ginny, a vague wistfulness in her voice, as she examined Harry's bed sheets. "Too bad."

"Ginny, if you keep up this tone of voice, no one's going to believe you came here to see your 'family'," said Fred.

"You know," said George distractedly. "I expect all the seven of us will be family quite soon."

Ron froze. And he definitely wasn't the only one.  Everyone looked a little taken aback.

He couldn't help looking at Hermione. She was looking back at him, and, for the first time that afternoon, held his gaze. He looked away this time, feeling his darkening blush.

George felt the commotion he had caused and looked around at them. "What? What did I say?"

Angelina slapped him across the head.


	6. Blow ups

A/N: No, you're not hallucinating, this is really chapter six! I don't really feel guilty that it took me so long, because man... God knows that I've tried. This chapter must have been re-written about 5 or 6 times, and I'm not exaggerating. I'm still not completely satisfied with it, but, you know, people were waiting. So... that's it. Chapter six. I _really_ need feedback for this one, people, because I'm extremely insecure about it. There is something wrong with it, and I can't figure out what on earth it is... Anyway, I'll stop rambling. =0)

Oh, and I still don't own anything!

                                                                                                           *

Christmas break was over, and Professor McGonagall had decided to drown her students in homework on the first day. George had been moping around a lot (well, as much as a Weasley twin could mope, anyway...) lately, and, even though he wouldn't say it, Ron knew it was because of the approaching Quidditch match and the state of his Seeker. Ron had been a little worried about that, too. Professor Trelawney had predicted that Harry's turning into a canary would be fatal for him, even though he had returned to human form during the break. The weather was cold and bleak. Hermione had been snappish the whole day, and because of her, he was carrying forty pounds of books.

It was no wonder that his mood wasn't at its best.

Right now, for a change, he and Hermione were on their way to see Harry, which was really the highlight of an otherwise very bad day. Every since his arms and legs had returned, Harry's disposition was much better, and spending time in the hospital wing with him had actually been somewhat fun.

His back was starting to hurt with the weight of so many books. Hermione had decided that since Harry had his hands back, he had to do his homework, and, for some reason, Ron had agreed on carrying the Transfiguration books that McGonagall had recommended earlier that day. He really wished he hadn't.

"Are you sure you don't want any help?" asked Hermione.

Ron gave her a look. "I can handle a few books, Hermione," he said, even though it was a downright lie.

"Then stop panting," she said, crossing her arms.

"I'm not _panting_," he retorted, inwardly thanking God that they had finally arrived at the hospital wing.

Hermione opened her mouth and the door at the same time, but what they heard from inside the room made her close her mouth immediately. "... found it out yesterday, when I was going to sleep..."

Ron's grin almost split his face in two. "Is that Harry?" he whispered to Hermione.

Hermione listened for a bit longer, looking like she might start jumping up and down any second. "That _is_ Harry! I didn't know he could already talk!"

Ron barely had time to be happy when a second voice destroyed the moment completely:

"And your voice came back from nowhere, Harry?"

Ron froze. "Is that Seamus?" 

Hermione looked at him wearily. "Well, it sounds like him..."

Ron put the books on the floor. "Right. I'm out of here."

He had already started walking away when Hermione called after him, "Ron, stop!"

Ron stopped and turned to see her jogging to catch up with him. "You can go on without me."

"I don't want to go on without you," she said, almost to herself.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"You're being ridiculous, Ron," she said, raising her voice.

"Am I? Hermione, if I go in there, it'll ruin both Seamus' and my day," he answered, his voice also louder.

"If you don't, it'll ruin Harry's!" 

Hermione had left the books in the middle of the hallway when she went after him, Ron suddenly noticed. He was wondering why that mattered so much when her voice, a lot softer than before, interrupted his thoughts.

"He's just got his voice back, he'll be wanting to talk to you."

"All right," said Ron, looking away from the pile of books and at her.

"_All right_?" repeated Hermione, surprised.

"Yeah, ok, I'll go in there," he said. Hermione's lips broke into a disturbingly perfect smile at his words.

As they entered the hospital wing, though, Ron started to doubt his decision. Harry was the only one who looked happy to see him; Seamus' voice trailed off as soon as he saw Ron, and Lavender (who was also there – to add to the fun, apparently - on the bed next to Harry's) was looking from him to Seamus, her mouth in an 'O' shape.

He really had to stop doing things for Hermione.

                                                                                                   *

"Mackled Malaclaw."

Hermione entered the common room, wanting nothing more than to snuggle with Crookshanks and shut out the world.

That afternoon had been the first time she had witnessed Ron and Seamus together in an enclosed space in the last three months, and it had been horrible. She had thought that there would be insults thrown and general nastiness, that Ron would have to be kept from punching Seamus and vice-versa. _That_ Hermione would have been able to take. But Seamus had tried to ignore Ron, but had ended up not succeeding and giving him lots of dirty looks, and Ron... Ron had just looked frustrated and subdued. Hermione sighed. He had looked like he wanted to confront Seamus, but knew he couldn't. Telling Seamus that it wasn't Ron's fault would be telling him that Lavender had been lying, and Ron would never do that. Hermione knew he would never break a promise, even if it had been to Lavender.

"Why didn't Seamus come back from the meeting with you, Hermione?" said Lavender, from a corner of the room, where she was sitting with Parvati.

Lavender had still been in the hospital wing when Seamus and Hermione had gone to the Prefects' meeting, and of course she would want to know about Seamus. Lavender _always_ wanted to know about Seamus. Hermione closed her eyes briefly. Lavender shouldn't be so eager to see him, because when they met, it wouldn't be pretty. And Hermione didn't want to be there to watch it, even though it was all her fault.

In fact, it was exactly _because_ it was all her fault.

"Well," said Hermione, turning to face Lavender, "we met Dean along the way and Seamus stopped to say something to him, but he should be here any time now, how's your ankle?"

Lavender apparently didn't notice Hermione's rush to change the subject. She smiled slightly and looked down at her leg. "It's fine, thanks. Madam Pomfrey fixed it fairly quickly."

Hermione forced herself to smile back. She was already plotting ways to get out of there when Parvati spoke up:

"So, Hermione, I heard that Harry's talking."

"He is," said Hermione. "He found out yesterday."

"Yeah, Lavender told me," said Parvati as Lavender nodded. "Do you think he'll be able to play against Hufflepuff?"

"I hope so."

"But Harry said that Madam Pomfrey wants him to stay there for another couple of days, and the game is three days away... Even if he does get out in time, he won't be able to practice, will he?" said Lavender.

"Well, I asked George about that the other day. He just shrugged and said that after being a canary for so long, Harry will be able to wing it just fine."

Parvati and Lavender laughed, and then Parvati said, still snickering, "Oh, what a horrible thing to say. Poor Harry."

Hermione nodded, although she didn't quite agree. Even though she would _never_ admit it to anyone, she thought it was kind of sweet that George had so much faith in Harry's ability that he'd put him in the field without training. A little inconsequential, perhaps, but it was _George_.

The portrait hole swung open. Seamus entered the common room. When Hermione had left him, he had looked taken aback, maybe a little upset. Now he was visibly very angry. Lavender saw him and jumped to her feet, running over to Seamus.

He ignored her. Lavender grabbed his arm when he was about to get to the staircase.

"Aren't you going to say hi?" she said playfully, but her face fell as soon as she saw the look on his.

"Hi," he said. Hermione winced at his tone of voice.

Lavender gave him a weird look. "What happened?"

"Nothing," said Seamus, releasing his arm from her grip abruptly and turning to leave. Lavender grabbed his arm again before he could.

"Where are you going?"

"To my dormitory." He snapped his arm away again.

"And you're not going to ask how my ankle is," stated Lavender, frowning slightly.

"How is your ankle, Lavender?" said Seamus roughly.

"So, I reckon we're the only ones who understand what's going on," said a voice on Hermione's left.

She turned to see Dean and blinked. She hadn't even realized that he had entered the room with Seamus. "You know, we should stop watching," she said.

"Why? Seamus is about to tell her!" he said, pouting almost imperceptibly. "They're on the edge of breaking up."

Hermione bit her lip. "He's really going to…?"

Dean nodded glumly. "From what he told me, I'd be pretty surprised if he didn't."

"What did he tell you?" asked Hermione, wincing as Seamus' voice rang a few feet away, "I don't know, Lavender. Why don't _you_ tell _me_ what's wrong?"

"Everything," said Dean, with a worried glance in his best friend's direction. "Look, Hermione, I know you feel responsible... Well, you _are_ a little bit responsible, but..."

"Let's just go sit by Parvati, ok?" interrupted Hermione. She couldn't even stand her own conscience reminding her of her responsibility; she didn't need Dean to do it, too. 

Dean nodded. Parvati was watching Seamus and Lavender with such attention (as was everyone in the room, Hermione noticed) that she didn't even notice Dean and Hermione approach her.

Dean cleared his throat. Parvati didn't react.

"Parvati?"

Nothing.

He patted her on the shoulder, "_Parvati_!"

Parvati jumped. "Dean! Hi! Weren't you meeting Lisa?"

"I was going to, but we didn't really make plans to meet today."

"Uh-huh," said Parvati, her eyes back on Seamus and Lavender.

"So I just came back with Seamus, he's going to need a bit of cheering up soon."

"Uh-huh."

"And I think I'll ask Dumbledore to marry me, and then dance naked in the middle of the Great Hall." Dean sat down next to her.

"Uh-huh."

"Are you even listening to a word I'm saying, Parvati?" said Dean.

Parvati glanced at him quickly. "Of course I am! You said something about Dumbledore, and Seamus... and dancing naked."

Lavender shouted, "It was _nothing_ like that, Seamus!" and Parvati's attention returned to the fighting couple immediately. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Parvati, you really--"

"Sshh!! You've just made me miss what Seamus said! He's being a real prat to her," said Parvati.

Hermione sat on the other side of Parvati. "Do you really think it's ok to listen to this?"

"They wouldn't be having a fight in the middle of the common room if they didn't want people to listen." 

Hermione dropped the subject. It was her experience that, sometimes, public fights just... happened. She didn't want to argue with Parvati though, especially since she would have to mention her disagreements with Ron. She could grant it that sometimes it was hard not to listen to those fights-

"Well, Lavender, _I don't care_!"

Especially when the people involved started yelling.

"I only did that because I needed you, Seamus. I _need_ you!" Well, Lavender had always been melodramatic.

Seamus replied with a look that caused Lavender to break down crying and run up the stairs. He watched after her for a second, then waved at the people who were watching and excused himself out of the circle everyone had formed around him.

"I can't believe Seamus would do that, that's so mean," said Parvati, still looking after Seamus. 

"Mean? Parvati, were you even listening to their fight?" said Dean.

Hermione kept quiet. She was starting to feel sick.

Parvati turned on her seat to face Dean. "Yes, I was listening... Doesn't Seamus understand she only did it because she loves him? Although I don't see why she does, he just proved what a prat he really is..." 

"He's your friend," interrupted Dean.

Parvati ignored him. "I mean, do you think that's a good reason to break up with someone?"

"Well, I..." said Dean, clearly afraid to be truthful.

"Because it isn't!" said Parvati hotly. "Why would you break up with someone who did everything they could to be with you? 'Oh, look, I'm sorry, I can't be with you anymore, you care about me too much'... What's the deal with that? There's nothing wrong with fighting for what you want and believing that – what?" she asked upon seeing his cheeky grin.

"It was your idea, wasn't it?" said Dean.

Parvati looked ruffled. "Hey, I just wanted to help Lavender, she was devastated at the time... I told her that being depressed wouldn't bring Seamus back and that if she really wanted him, she'd have to do something about it. It worked, didn't it? At least until Seamus found out... _How_ did he find out, anyway?"

Hermione wished Dean's gaze hadn't immediately gone in her direction. He tried to pretend he hadn't been so obvious afterwards, but Parvati had already cottoned on. 

"Ah," she said, with a look at Hermione that wasn't quite definable.

Hermione looked away as Dean gave her a guilty smile.

The portrait hole swung open once again. Hermione looked up and met Ron's eyes, doubly happy to see him. He gave her a feeble smile as she beckoned him over. 

"Er- Parvati, Hermione doesn't want Ron to know about it, so if you could..." said Dean quietly. 

Hermione took a deep breath. It was amazing how Dean could tell a secret even when he was trying to be helpful. She just hoped no one would press the subject further.

"You know, Hermione, I should tell him. That way maybe you'd think twice before going around spreading other people's secrets," whispered Parvati sharply, eyes flashing, as Ron approached them. "Hi Ron. I have to go check on Lavender, bye. Bye, Dean," she said briskly, standing up and leaving before Ron could say anything.

"What's up with her?" said Ron, with a bewildered look at Parvati's retreating back.

Dean looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Dean. Dean looked up at Ron after a few seconds. "Er... you know..." he looked around and said in a conspiratorial tone, his voice barely above a whisper, "she's having that monthly problem..."

"Oh," mouthed Ron, his eyes widening slightly. Hermione held the urge to laugh despite the situation.

"What took you so long at the Owlery?" Dean asked Ron.

Ron's eyes narrowed.

"You were in the Owlery?" asked Hermione.

"I saw him in here a little while ago, he got an owl," said Dean.

"Yeah, I was in the Owlery," said Ron.

"Who sent you a letter?"

"Mum," said Ron, and his tone of voice had such a finality in it that Hermione didn't ask more questions. "So, why did Parvati have to check on Lavender?"

Hermione looked at Dean. Dean looked at Hermione. Hermione shrugged and looked at Ron. "Well, Lavender is probably upset..."

                                                                                                      *

"Well, Lavender is probably upset... Seamus just broke up with her," said Hermione after exchanging looks with Dean.

"He did? Why?" said Ron.

Dean and Hermione looked at each other again. That was starting to become extremely annoying. When did Hermione start sharing secrets with Dean, anyway? 

"Er- I'm not sure," said Dean finally. "I wasn't listening."

"Liar," came a voice beside them. "Everyone in the blasted common room was listening."

Seamus. Ron clenched his jaw.

Dean turned around and smiled sheepishly at his friend. "Well, I missed a bit at the middle..."

Seamus rolled his eyes and everyone fell silent.

"Uh," said Seamus after a few moments, causing everyone to look at him. He shifted his weight from a foot to the other. "Ron. I suppose I owe you an apology."

Ron blinked. "_What_?" He didn't know what was more surprising: the apology or the use of his first name.

"For the way I've treated you, these last few months."

Ron was still trying to decide how to react to that when Hermione stood up. "Maybe I should..." she said, motioning toward the stairs.

Seamus looked at her and shrugged. "If you want to."

Hermione stuck around a little longer, looking at Dean as if waiting for him to decide to leave the two alone as well. He didn't. She rolled her eyes, waved goodbye and left.

"Er," said Seamus, making Ron look away from Hermione and at him. "So you never dated Lavender."

Ron shook his head. 

"I reckon you didn't cheat on her with Hannah Abbot either, then."

 "_What_?" Ron almost lost his balance. He barely _knew_ Hannah Abbot. "Lavender told you that?"

"Oh, yeah," said Seamus, throwing himself on the couch by Dean's side. "Described in vivid details how she saw you two, all the while crying hysterically. I didn't even suspect it was all just a big, fat lie." He started rubbing his temples. "Do you have any idea how stupid I feel right now?"

Ron sat next to Seamus, knowing that he should probably say something. The problem was, he didn't have the slightest clue as to what. Dean spared him, though, when he patted Seamus' shoulder and said, "Seamus, what a coincidence, I just remembered... you know Lisa's Ravenclaw friend? The one you think looks like a Veela? Lisa wants me to find a bloke for her. Should I tell her you're free and looking?"

"Stop trying to set me up, Dean," snapped Seamus. "That last girl was a royal pain in the arse."

"All right, I see you're not in the best of moods," said Dean, his voice heavy with fake-cheerfulness. "But you know what they say, it takes one to forget one." Seamus didn't answer. Dean gave him a worried look and looked up at Ron. "So... Ron, you seem to be into the smart type. What about a Ravenclaw, huh?" said Dean.

"What do you mean, I seem to be into the smart type?" hissed Ron.

"Hey, calm down!" said Dean, raising his hands mockingly, as Parvati joined them.

"Hi again, Dean, Ron," she said, sitting on an armchair next to them. "Hello, you git," she added pointedly to Seamus. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Good afternoon to you too," said Seamus, who was apparently too disturbed to care about Parvati's sudden hostility.

"_Good afternoon_?" retorted Parvati. "My afternoon is far from good, thanks to you. My best friend is crying so much that she'll be dehydrated before the end of the day."

"And you left her alone?" asked Seamus, failing to sound nonchalant.

"Not that I should answer your questions, but no, I didn't. She asked me to leave because she wanted to talk to Hermione."

"And you left?" said Dean, a note of panic in his voice. "You know that Lavender'll eat Hermione alive, Parvati!"

"Why would Lavender eat Hermione alive?" asked Ron, at the same time Seamus shouted, "Dean!" and Parvati mumbled, "Hope she does."

Dean looked from Seamus to Ron, and said, the note of panic in his voice a lot more noticeable, "Er... well..."

"_Why would Lavender eat Hermione alive_, Dean?" repeated Ron slowly, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah, Dean, why won't you tell Ron why Lavender would want to do such a thing?" said Parvati, in a delighted tone of voice.

Seamus glared at her.

                                                                                                *

"Maybe I should..." said Hermione, motioning toward the stairs. Seamus and Ron needed some privacy.

Seamus shrugged. "If you want to."

Hermione waited for Dean to leave too, but he didn't make a sign of moving, so she gave up and went up the stairs. She hesitated as her hand reached the doorknob of her dormitory. She could hear crying inside. She swallowed guiltily and pushed the door open. 

Parvati looked up as soon as she entered and patted Lavender, who was crying on her shoulder. "Look who's decided to grace us with her presence, Lav," she whispered, glaring at Hermione.

Lavender raised her head and looked up at Hermione with a look that left no doubt about it: she knew. "Parvati, could you leave us alone for a while?"

Parvati stood up. "Look, Lav, if you need anything..."

"I know," said Lavender, wiping her tears and smiling slightly at her. "Thanks, Parv."

Parvati nodded and Hermione had to step out of her way as she left. 

"I trusted you, Hermione," said Lavender, her voice choked.  

Hermione crossed her arm tightly across her chest. "Lavender, look, I'm sorry. I really am."

"_Sorry_?" said Lavender, looking up at her sharply. She sounded like an angry magpie. "You're _sorry_??"

"You have every right to be angry," said Hermione. "I should never have told him."

"Then why did you?"

"I'm not sure."

"_You're not sure_?" screeched Lavender, her voice extremely high. "You destroyed my life, and you're _not sure_ of why you did it?"

"That stupid hatred Seamus had for Ron has always bothered me, I think you know that," said Hermione gently. She was going into dangerous territory, and she could ruin everything if she lost her reason.

"It bothered me too," said Lavender, blowing her nose.

Hermione somehow didn't think it bothered Lavender all that much, but she kept quiet about that. Lavender was already too furious at her as it was. "And ever since you told me it was a set-up, it's been even more disturbing. I couldn't understand why Seamus hated Ron so much if he had just 'dated' you." She took a deep breath and forced herself to continue. "I asked Seamus about it, when we were coming back to the common room. He said you didn't want him telling everyone about it, but if I swore not to tell anybody..." she trailed off.

"Go on," said Lavender softly, looking intently at the handkerchief she was twisting in her hand.

"He... he started telling me all those horrible things about Ron... Things that Ron didn't do and would _obviously_ _never_--" She sighed. "I just couldn't take it, I'm sorry."

Lavender took some time to answer. "I was going to tell him soon, you know."

"When?" said Hermione, her voice more accusing than planned.

Lavender's eyes narrowed. "Soon," she repeated, almost spitting the word out.

The silence was broken after what seemed like forever by a knock on the door.

"Parvati, can't you wait a little more?" shouted Lavender.

"It's not Parvati," answered a voice Hermione knew all too well. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying to be mistaken. "It's Ron. Look, is- is Hermione there?" 

"Yeah, but we're in the middle of something here." Lavender wiped her already dry eyes and opened the door just enough to stick her head out. "She's told Seamus about that thing that Seamus wasn't supposed to know about."

Hermione just wanted to die. Parvati must have told Lavender that Hermione didn't want Ron to know. Was that some kind of childish revenge? She groaned. She didn't want to have to explain herself to him.

"Yeah, I... I know," replied Ron. "Can I talk to her?"

"Why?"

"Just let me talk to her."

"What do you want to talk to her about?"

"She's my friend!" said Ron, and Hermione knew he was very close to losing his temper. "What's the problem, can't I have a word with _my friend_?"

Lavender looked inside the room and at Hermione. Hermione gestured and mouthed, "I don't want to talk to him." Lavender appraised her for a moment and then opened the door wide.

"You're right, Ron. Come in."

Ron looked inside the room, caught Hermione's look and then looked back at Lavender. "I can't go in there, that's the girls' dormitory."

"Oh, Hermione won't report you, will you, Hermione?"

Hermione glared at her.

"Oh, yes, Parvati told me you didn't want Ron to know about you being the one who told Seamus… I'm _so_ sorry that he found out, Hermione," said Lavender, loud enough for Ron to hear, in a tone of voice that conveyed that she wasn't sorry at all. Hermione didn't blame her. "Good luck," she said, stepping out of the room and giving Ron a prod that made him step inside reluctantly. She closed the door behind her.

Hermione watched as Ron looked around the room. The determination that he had showed to Lavender seemed to have faltered now that he was inside the dormitory; he looked a little intimidated by the general girly appearance that Lavender and Parvati had made sure to give the room.

"So, you found out," she whispered. 

"Yeah, well... Dean let it slip," he said, still looking intently at Parvati's nail polish collection.

"I should have known," said Hermione, and found Ron looking at her with a slight frown as she looked up at him. "What?"

"Why is it so terrible that Dean told me?" 

Hermione looked away from him. It was terrible because she didn't want to be having this very conversation. It was terrible because she didn't want to have to justify to him why she told Seamus. And it was especially terrible because didn't want to admit to Ron that she had actually asked Lavender about him.

"It's not _terrible_..." said Hermione slowly. 

"Then why did you want to keep it from me?"

"Because you obviously didn't want me to know that the reason you were snogging Lavender had nothing to do with liking her in any way," said Hermione, only realizing how much it really bothered her after the words left her mouth. They made it seem more real, somehow.

"I'm not proud of that, you know," said Ron awkwardly, looking quite red.

"Oh, then why did you agree to it?" 

"I didn't agree, I just... stopped objecting," said Ron lamely.

"Oh, really? And what made you 'stop objecting'? Lavender's Divination skills, or the fact that _her tongue was in your mouth_?" snapped Hermione. It was amazing how, in the process of arguing with Ron, she was somehow hurting herself much more than she was him.

"Well, I... um…" stuttered Ron, going redder than Hermione thought was humanly possible.

"Yes, Ron?" said Hermione acidly.

"There's... there's nothing wrong with helping a friend."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, a pang in her chest. She had made the connection a long time ago, but actually hearing him put herself on the same level as Lavender hurt even more.  After all, he was her friend too, and the kiss in the bathroom... He was trying to 'help', wasn't he? She shook her head lightly, which hopefully Ron would think was a gesture of disapproval.

"_Friend_, Ron? When did Lavender become your _friend_? Last time I checked, you didn't even _like_ her."

"Funny, last time _I_ checked, you seemed to think she was the love of my life," snapped Ron, without missing a beat.

"That's because I didn't know you were _lying_ to me."

"I never lied to you, Hermione." The intensity in his voice would have made her smile if she hadn't just been compared to Lavender.

"You omitted the truth." When he didn't give any sign of denying it, she continued, "Why didn't you tell Harry and me about it?"

"Harry knows," he said, deadpan.

"I see," said Hermione. "So you didn't tell _me_."

There was silence. Ron looked down, and when Hermione had assumed that he wasn't going to answer, he muttered, "Would you have cared?"

Hermione bit her lip. If only he knew how much she did care. She took a shaky breath before non-answering, "What makes you think I wouldn't?"

"I don't know," he said, still examining his shoes.

"Right," said Hermione dryly. 

"Oh, come on, Hermione, I just didn't have the opportunity to tell you," said Ron, looking up at her with an annoyed look.

"Well, when you really want to, you create the opportunity."

"Bit rich coming from you," retorted Ron, sudden bitterness in his voice.

"What? What are you on about?" she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh, you don't know?" said Ron, in the same tone of voice he used in their fights about Viktor. 

"Am I supposed to?"

"I didn't see you 'creating the opportunity' to tell your friends about Krum ending things with you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. So it _was_ the I'm-talking-about-Krum tone, after all. Honestly, she wasn't even dating him anymore. What would she have to do, go to Bulgaria and murder Viktor herself, for Ron to get over it? 

"That has nothing to do with anything, Ron. And I did tell you about Viktor breaking up with me," she said, her voice faltering at the end of the sentence, as memories what happened after that came to her mind.

"Yeah, after you couldn't stand me nagging you anymore," said Ron, and his gaze met Hermione's as he raised his eyes. He looked away quickly and ran a hand through his hair, his ears pink. Hermione knew, at that very moment, that she wasn't the only one with a good memory.

"Maybe I didn't want you to know," she said softly.

"Why not?" he asked, looking at her again.

"Because I knew you would keep on repeating, 'I was right! I was right!' all the time."

"I didn't do that!" said Ron defensively.

"That's because I was crying my eyes out!" said Hermione, wondering what happened to her ability to keep that afternoon in the girls' bathroom out of conversations with Ron. She had got pretty good at it in the past few weeks.

"You know," said Ron conversationally, after a few moments. "Now that I think of it, I _was_ right, wasn't I?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, you weren't."

"Yes I was! Krum's a git!"

Hermione willed herself to not get angry as she answered, as civilly as possible, "Viktor is not a git, Ron."

"What? He cheated on you, Hermione! That's unforgivable!" said Ron, already getting worked up.

"He actually sent me a really sweet letter telling me about Ingrid."

"Hermione, come on! Anyone who makes a girl cry is a git!"

Hermione's resolution to stay calm went to space. "You're such a hypocrite!" 

"I'm a hypocrite?" said Ron, looking a little baffled that he was suddenly the one being accused.

"Are you even aware of the fact that you've made me cry countless times?" she snapped.

"Well, I- that's... that's completely different. It's not like when Krum does it. I mean, I haven't – I haven't broken your heart or anything."

"Oh, that's what you think," murmured Hermione under her breath.

Ron's eyes widened. "_What_?"

Hermione felt her heart almost jump out of her ribcage. _That did not just happen._ She immediately diverted her eyes to the window. "Nothing."

"What did you say?"

"You heard me, Ron," said Hermione, and her voice shook a bit even though she did her best to control it.

"No, really, repeat it," said Ron's voice, sounding as stubborn as ever.

"You know what I said, Ron, stop being annoying." Her level of exasperation was starting to match that of her embarrassment.

"If you're so sure that I heard it properly, what's the harm in repeating it?" said Ron, raising his voice.

"Oh, Ron, for crying out loud!" she yelled, jumping to her feet, her frustration almost unbearable. "Could you please let it go and forget about it? Do you really want me to repeat to your face that yes, you have broken my heart? And you know why? Because I'm falling for you so hard that I can barely see straight. Is that what you want to hear? Well, there you have it. I'm in love with you. I'm. In. Love. With. You. Now tell me, how exactly did that make things easier for any of us?"

The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, and that was when Hermione realized the magnitude of her anger. Ron was apparently too shocked to speak, his skin pale under his freckles.

Hermione collapsed on the windowsill and buried her face in her knees. The silence was excruciating, but she really didn't want Ron to say anything. She knew she had scared him out of his wits. She had scared herself, too.

"Bloody hell," muttered Ron after a few seconds, in a small and perplexed voice.

"Hey, are you finished?" said Lavender from outside. They both jumped.

"Yeah," said Hermione loudly. The difficulty to get the word out made it sound like an 'eah'.

Lavender opened the door and stepped inside. "So..." she said carefully, looking from Ron to Hermione.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Er... Ron was- Ron was just going."

Ron gave her an unsure look.

Hermione darted her eyes to the door and mouthed, "Please."

"Yeah," he said awkwardly. "I was- I was just going, because I have to... uh... I have to go."

Hermione watched after him as he left. Lavender was looking at her strangely.

"You were out there the whole time?" said Hermione.

Lavender sat on her bed. "You didn't expect me to go downstairs to meet Seamus, did you?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Er... What exactly did you hear?"

"Well..." said Lavender, looking down sheepishly. "You two can be awfully loud."

Hermione would have felt at least somewhat annoyed, but Ron's departure had left her feeling numb. So she just left the dormitory. She didn't want to think about what she had done, and she definitely didn't want to discuss it with Lavender.

                                                                                                   *

Hermione glanced at the clock on top of her bedside table. Three seventeen in the morning. She fluffed her pillow violently, wondering if Lavender and Parvati could hear her and deciding that she didn't care.

The full impact of the whole day had finally hit her. Especially the way Ron had blatantly avoided her for the rest of the evening. She couldn't see how they would ever get past _that_.

She could feel the tears starting to sting the corners of her eyes.

_"Are you even aware of the fact that you've made me cry countless times?"_

She gripped her pillow. _No_. She wouldn't cry. Not over him. Not again.

He had been shocked, and he had had every right to be. Really, what had she been expecting? That he'd sweep her off her feet and ride her off into the sunset? Things didn't work that way. Especially not when Ron was involved.

And her eyes were wet. Stupid, _stupid_ Ron.

Hermione reminded herself again that she _didn't want_ him to return her feelings. Ok, fine, maybe she did, but she didn't want them to actually _do_ anything about it, didn't want him to sweep her off her feet. She buried her face on the pillow to stifle a sob. Right, so maybe she did.

But the rational part of her knew it wouldn't do any good. It couldn't. It would only wreck everything up. That's what feelings between friends did; they just ruined friendships right when they were going perfectly well.

And it didn't help that she had said – well, _yelled_ – everything she was feeling right to Ron's face.

_"Because I'm falling for you so hard I can barely see straight."_

She cringed with embarrassment, even now. What exactly had possessed her to confess that to him? Why did she always lose her temper in fights with him and end up doing stupid things? 

It was entirely his fault for being so infuriatingly clueless. Was he waiting for her to spell it out for him? Well, she had.

Hermione tried to stop her tears, which only made them come down harder. She would have to face Ron tomorrow, and she would hold her head high. Even if he gave her those pitying looks he usually saved for Neville. It didn't matter. She wouldn't lose him because of a stupid outburst. She couldn't.

She felt someone open the curtains of her four-poster, and looked up to see Lavender's puffy red eyes staring down at her. Lavender looked awful. Hermione was sure she herself didn't look much better. 

"I see you can't sleep either," her roommate said. 

Hermione sat up and tried to wipe her tears away hurriedly, although Lavender had obviously already noticed them.

"Er – can I?" asked Lavender, motioning for the bed.

"I thought you hated me," said Hermione, making room for her.

"I don't hate you," said Lavender, with a lifeless chuckle, sitting down next to her. "I was just disappointed in you. _Very_ disappointed in you. But, well, I can definitely relate to... to doing something stupid out of -" her voice broke, "- out of love for a boy. Oh, here I go again," she whispered, as she started sobbing.

Hermione patted her back awkwardly, not really knowing what else to do. 

"You think I'm an awful person, don't you?" asked Lavender softly, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her nightgown.

"No, of course I don't," said Hermione, although she wasn't sure how much of that was just to make Lavender feel better.

"Rough day, huh?" said a voice from the other side of the room.

They both looked up at Parvati, who was climbing out of her bed groggily.

"Look, Hermione," she said, as she reached Hermione's bed, rubbing her eyes. "If Lav can forgive you, I suppose I--" she was cut off by a yawn, "I suppose I can forgive you too."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks. Did we wake you up?"

Parvati smiled. "Oh, don't worry about it, it's my job." She sat down between them and put her right arm around Lavender.

Lavender leaned on her friend's shoulder, crying even harder.

"Sshh... Calm down, it's ok..." Parvati whispered, "It's ok, Lav... Seamus will come to his senses... calm down..."

Hermione watched the two of them, marveling at how Lavender really _was_ calming down. Parvati patted Lavender on the shoulder for a bit and then looked up at Hermione.

"Oh, and Herm?" she said.

"Call me Hermione, please."

"Right – Hermione. Ron'll come to his senses too, you know."

Hermione was about to tell Parvati that she didn't _want_ Ron to come to his senses, when it hit her. "Lavender! You _told_ her?"

Lavender lifted her head from Parvati's shoulder to look at her. "Of _course_ I told her. I tell her everything."

Parvati patted her friend's shoulder and then smiled at Hermione. "Yeah, but you don't have to worry, I can keep a secret," she said, and then added as an afterthought, "I've only told Padma."

"_Padma_?"

"Yeah, well, she's my twin. It's not as if I can keep things from her. But you don't have to worry. I think she's only told Lisa."

"What? A girl called Lisa knows about it?" said Hermione, starting to feel sick.

"Lisa's Padma's best friend," said Parvati, "She's great, I don't think you have anything to worry ab-"

"Wait," said Lavender suddenly, "isn't Lisa Dean's girlfriend?"

Parvati turned to her, her eyes lighting up at the opportunity to gossip. "Well, I wouldn't use the term 'girlfriend', Padma told me that they're not _officially_... Oh." Her face fell. "I see what you mean."

Lavender nodded gravely and gave Hermione an 'Oh, dear' look. "Well... let's just hope Lisa can _really_ keep a secret, because if Dean finds out..."

She didn't need to finish the sentence.


	7. The trials and tribulations of being a W...

A/N: I am not going to mention how long it has been. Nope. Enough to say, it's been a while. I wouldn't dream of forcing all of you to reread every one of the previous chapters to understand that is going on, although it would be nice, of course. Anyway, I've written you a summary. For some reason, FF.net won't let me link to it, so you unfortunately will have to go to my author's page (www.fanfiction.net/~manu). The link is there.

Thank you Debora and Tissa for the web space!

Chapter 8 (the final part) is half-written. I've been busy, but I've also got unstuck… in short, I don't know how long it'll take until I post it. I'm sure it will be less than it took me to post chapter 7. Nope, still not mentioning how long that was.

Oh, I own nothing.

*

When Ginny had called Hermione to sit and have breakfast with them, Ron had thought it would be uncomfortable. But this... this was almost unbearable.

He glanced at Hermione and resumed playing with his food. He wasn't hungry. There was no way he could be hungry with her sitting right _there_, even though she hadn't uttered a word since the exchange of "Good morning"s and was doing everything in her power to ignore his presence.

She had told him she was in love with him. In _love_. With _him_. He stole a look at her again. No, he still couldn't see it. He didn't know how people in love behaved, but it certainly wasn't the way Hermione was acting, and the more she ignored him the more he was convinced that yesterday had only been his imagination trying to freak him out.

Ginny had tried to start conversation about some potion Fred and George had given her, but soon gave up. Ron had been catching her looking every once in a while from him to Hermione. He had wondered whether she had figured out that something was wrong, and soon came to the conclusion that she obviously had. He and Hermione never stayed silent unless they had had a fight. Although he could hardly call what happened one of their usual fights. 

Hermione was in love with him. Hermione was in _love_ with him. In love. With _him_.

Nope, it still sounded far-off and just plain weird to even think about it. 

"Hey, everyone, good morning. Ron, _good morning_!"

Hermione looked up from her plate for the first time in the last half an hour. She didn't seem too happy to see Dean. Ron wasn't all too thrilled, either – did Dean _have_ to sound so cheerful?

"Good morning, Dean," said Ginny, looking relieved to hear _someone_ speak.

"'Morning," Ron said.

Dean sat on the chair next to him. "Look, mate, I'm going to the Ravenclaw table right now."

Ron waited for him to elaborate. When that didn't happen, he furrowed his eyebrows and said, in all honesty, "So what?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't think you understand what I'm saying. I'm going to the _Ravenclaw_ table right _now_." 

"Well, don't you go there every morning?"

_"Ron_. The girl I told you about yesterday, remember? Lisa's friend? The gorgeous Ravenclaw, has it completely slipped your mind?" 

Ron blinked. It had. It totally and completely had. 

"Right," said Ron. "What about her?"

"I'm going to tell her your answer right now, so, you see, I need to know what it is. Look, she is the one sitting between Padma and Lisa, over there." He pointed. "With the great violet eyes."

Ron looked. The girl _was_ very pretty.

"Wow, how come I never noticed _that_ girl before?"

"I know! And she and Lisa and Padma always sit together. Seamus and I agree that just looking in their direction is enough to make a bloke's day." Dean grinned. "So what do you say? You into it?"

"I... well... I don't really think--"

Hermione probably felt his eyes on her while he stuttered, because she looked up and said firmly, "Of course he's into it, Dean."

The other three gaped at her.

"Are you, Ron?" said Dean.

Ron barely heard him, too busy he was staring at Hermione. He could spend all his life trying and he _knew_ that he still wouldn't be able to figure her out.

Hermione looked away from him uncomfortably and turned to Dean. "What are you waiting for, Dean?"

Dean shrugged and headed for the Ravenclaw table.

Ron regained his voice. "Hermione, what the—"

"You've established and emphasized the fact that she's pretty, Ron," said Hermione, once again looking down. "Why not?"

Ron stared at her. Right, that was _definitely_ not the way he reckoned she'd be acting if...  "I thought you said yesterday--"

Hermione dropped her fork abruptly and raised her head, eyes darkening. "Don't."

Ron looked down at his plate, shaking his head. _No sense_. None of it made any sense at all.

They fell silent again.

Ginny cleared her throat to remind people that she was still there. "Er... " she said, "you want me to go sit with Colin?"

_Yes, please._

"No, Ginny, it's okay," said Hermione. "We're finished. And it wasn't anything you didn't already know about, anyway."

"Oh," said Ginny, eyes widening slightly. "But you mean that…?" she trailed off, gesturing a lot.

"Yes, that's what I mean," replied Hermione sharply.

Ron's heart was racing. "_What_? You _told_ _Ginny_? What exactly did you—"

"She figured it out by herself, Ron," snapped Hermione, and then added, almost under her breath. "I suppose I'm just that obvious." 

_Oh no, you're not_, was the first thought to cross Ron's mind. The second was that Hermione was _definitely_ furious. And he was sure that he hadn't done anything yet.

Well, almost sure.

"Hermione..." he started, trying to be soothing. Or something.

"_No,_ Ron. Stop. I'm fine, really. I'm great. I don't want you to feel guilty. I don't really want you to feel _anything_. I don't want you to do anything either, really. Things are great, I'm great. I don't need your pity, I – I'll see you in Herbology."

And with that, she was gone. 

Ginny seemed to not know whether to follow her or stay here and pester Ron. To his annoyance, she decided on the latter.

"Ron? What on earth just happened?"

"I was hoping you'd explain it to me," said Ron after he picked his jaw up off the ground, still staring after Hermione. 

"Well... she said I knew what it was all about, but the only thing I know..." 

She looked around and stood up. Ron thought for a wonderful moment that she had left, but it ended up that she had just come around the table and gone to sit next to him. To gossip better, he supposed.

"The only thing I know," continued Ginny in a quiet voice, "is not something I think she'd ever tell you in her right mind, especially while you are acting like such a stupid git."

"I am not a stupid git!"

Ginny ignored that. "But did she, Ron? Did she tell you what I think she did?"

"What do you think she told me?" said Ron, realizing at once that he didn't really want to hear it from his sister's mouth.

"Hmm," said Ginny, "what did she tell you?"

Ron cursed himself inwardly when he realized that he was blushing. "That's none of your business." He was sure that she, too, knew they were talking about the same thing, but he'd never be the first one to mention it.

"Hmm," Ginny repeated. 

She looked pensive for a second before she sighed and started handling the sleeve of his robe and running her finger over a small hole just under his shoulder. Ron decided that he would refrain from telling her to quit it, since it apparently entertained her. That way she'd get her mind off of other things he wanted her mind very well off of...

"The fabric's wearing thin," she said softly, starting to examine the rest of the sleeve.

"Stupid old thing," mumbled Ron.

"Yeah, I know..." said Ginny. "Look, Fred and George gave me this potion to fix those things that they – wait a second, I think I have it with me..." She reached for her bag and, after scrambling through it for a moment, handed him a glass vial. "Here. They made it for me as a Christmas present."

Ron held the vial in front of his eyes and tried to identify the color of the liquid inside, to no avail. "And you truly trust something Fred and George gave you?"

"No," said Ginny. "That's why I need you to test it on _your_ robes first."

"No bloody chance."

"Right," Ginny said. "I tried." She patted his arm and, after a moment, gave him a small smile that he _knew_ had nothing to do with the conversation about robes.

"Since when do you know?" he heard himself ask.

Her smile grew wider. She knew what he was talking about. It almost seemed like telepathy, except that he had the impression that the subject had simply never left her mind. It certainly hadn't left his.

"I'm not sure... but she confirmed it a couple of weeks before Christmas, I think."

"Oh," said Ron, who honestly had no idea what to say.

"It must have been surprising for you," said Ginny.

"It was," confirmed Ron, wondering _why_ he was talking civilly to her about this. He could feel his ears growing hot again. "It _is_. I just don't... I mean, do you think she really..."

"Meant it?" Ginny filled in, seemingly sensing that he couldn't bring himself to finish the question.

Ron nodded.

His sister gave him a look. "You really are a stupid git, Ron."

Pause.

"Do you like her?"

Well. He didn't _care_ if she was family; no one had the right to ask that to anyone. Well, he _had_ said something similar to Harry about Cho Chang, but that was only teasing. Those kinds of question were plain rude, when asked seriously. Especially, of course, when he was the one at the receiving end of them.

"That's not the point," he snapped.

"Oh, Ron," said Ginny, laughing, "you _know_ that it's actually the whole point."

"No, it's not."

"Why do you say that?"

Glare. "Because it's not."

"Oh, that's a _great_ argument," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. Ron missed the arguments they used to have back when she was a six-year-old; if there was one thing he seriously regretted, it was having taught her about sarcasm.

Silence.

"So you're going to let her go," said Ginny.

Silence.

"Just like that," she pressed, and then, when he still didn't give signs of saying anything, sighed. "You know that she's not going to wait for you forever, right?"

"Blimey, Ginny, I don't want her to!"

"Fine," snapped Ginny. "I think you're lying. But we'll see soon enough, won't we? She'll be dating someone else in no time."

"Good for her," snapped Ron.

"Yes, of course, if you really don't feel anything for her, it shouldn't bother you. And even if it bothers you, there'll be nothing you can do about it, will there? You won't have the right to beat him up, yell bloody murder or even forbid Hermione to see him, 'cause you had your chance, you missed it, and it'll be too late."

"Fine, Ginny, I know that, shut up." 

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. 

"No, Ron, I don't think you get it. What are you going to do when you have to watch some git whispering sweet nothings in her ear? When you have to sit quietly in the common room when you _know _she's off somewhere with some bloke? And you can't do anything about it, because you were the one who let her go, and you'll just have to live with the knowledge that _you_ drove her into his arms, and she likes it there. She likes cuddling him and grabbing his shoulders and moaning his name and having his hands roam—" 

_CRASH_!

Ron swore. Loudly.

Ginny's eyes widened as she looked at Ron's bloody hand and then at the splinters of the vial he had been holding, some down on the floor and some stuck in his hand still.  She brought her hands to her mouth.

"Oh my God, Ron, I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry...  I got carried away, I had no idea it would affect you that way, I'm so sorry, Ron! So incredibly sorry--"

"Ginny, for the love of God, shut up."

"Let me take a look at it," said Ginny.

"_No_!" But he didn't try to stop her when she took his hand in hers and started examining it.

"Have I told you that I'm sorry?" she said softly, taking the shreds from his hand. 

"_Ouch_!" exclaimed Ron, as she pulled away an especially big piece of broken glass from his skin.

Ginny winced. "Sorry! It really must hurt."

"No, Ginny, having your skin ripped apart by broken glass is very much fun. Think I'll do it everyday." 

His sister glared at him. "I don't need the sarcasm right now. You can just come out and say that you think I'm an interfering, blabbering, stupid little brat."

He looked down at his hand. "Just don't... don't say that stuff again, okay?" 

Ginny grinned. "What, you mean about how Hermione and her Head Boy boyfriend will –" 

"_Don't say it_," Ron snapped. "Blimey, sometimes I really hate you."

"I know." Pause. "Erm, Ron, all this harshness towards me... does it mean what I think it means?"

"I don't know what you think it means."

"That you've finally figured out th—"

"- and I _don't_ want to know!"

"Sorry." She looked down at his hand again. "Let's go to the hospital wing, Ron."

"What? _No_, I don't need—"

"Well, all right, we don't have to go. We can just go to our common room and I'll have fun watching you explain to people why your hand's all bloody."

Ron glared at her and then sighed. "How about we go to the hospital wing?"

~o~

"Oh, he's asleep," said Ginny softly, once Madam Pomfrey finished bandaging Ron's hand and left for her office.

"What, who?" asked Ron, lying down on the bed he had been sitting on.

"Harry. Why on earth would I talk about anyone else, when he's the only one here other than us?" said Ginny, who somehow appeared beside Harry's bed. Ron wasn't really paying attention.

Ron grinned. "Why on earth would you talk about anyone else, period?"

Ginny froze, and then blushed. "Ron, that's—that's just—"

"True?" Ron suggested, putting his good arm under his pillow and laying his head on it.

"Mean," corrected Ginny.

"Ginny, if you think _that's_ mean..." started Ron, but a glare from his sister silenced him. He shouldn't tease Ginny about Harry these days. It was a remarkably stupid thing to do, and only the twins still dared do it.

"Yes, I think it's mean and I don't like it. Do you have a problem with that, Ron?"

Ron kept quiet.

"Good," said Ginny, still looking at him suspiciously. After a moment, she looked back at Harry and asked, in what could almost be interpreted as a casual tone, "So he's human again?"

"Yeah, not bestiality anymore, huh, Gin?"

"_Ron_!"

"Oops, sorry," he said lightly, and then added, upon seeing the look on her face, "Come on, Ginny, you've been bugging me all day, don't you think I deserve to tease you? Just a little bit?"

"Not in front of _him_," said Ginny quietly, blushing and staring at her feet.

Ron sat up and glanced at Harry. "He's _asleep_."

"He's _in the room_ and he could _wake up_!"

"Well, he already knows anyway!"

Ginny opened her mouth, and then closed it.  "That's not the point," she said.

Ron let her have the last word for once, and simply lay back on the bed. He was tired of arguing. Ginny sat down on a chair.

"Erm... Ron? Can I ask you a question?" she said after a while.

"A question?" That definitely didn't sound good.

"Yeah, about Hermione. I'd have asked her, but she didn't want to talk to me about you, and I'd feel bad to force her. But you're my brother."

"Oh, so it's okay to force me?"

"Well, what would be the use of being family if it weren't?"

Sigh. "Good point."

"Why were you and Hermione being awkward with each other for these last few weeks, if she only told you yesterday?"

The question came just like that. No beating around the bush, and no time for Ron to figure out what to do except blush.

"Whoa, that's... I mean, um, what makes you think we were being awkward?"

"The fact that you were acting awkward," said Ginny simply.

"Oh, _that_," said Ron, desperately searching his brain for a good lie, but, as always happened in these situations, drawing a blank.

"So you're not going to answer?"

"Erm... no, actually, you see, I – I don't think I want to."

Ginny smirked. "I see."

"_What?_" snapped Ron, realizing at once that his tone was too defensive, and his face was too hot. Oh, Lord, let it be a nightmare.

"Nothing," said Ginny, in a light and innocent and absolutely _maddening_ tone of voice. "So, do you think it's going to rain?" she added casually, looking towards the window.

"She wasn't supposed to let me."

Ginny turned back to him immediately, eyes wide and overjoyed. "Wasn't supposed to let you what?" 

Ron turned to lie on his back and stared up at the ceiling. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, maybe I _don't_ know what you're talking about."

Ron laughed dryly. "Oh, yes, you do."

"No, I don't," said Ginny.

Ron turned to face her. "Ginny, I know you, okay? You've figured out what I'm talking about. You just want to get me to say it."

"Figured it out?" said Ginny. "Oh, Ron, maybe you're giving me too much credit."

"Maybe you're giving me too little."

Ginny gave him an enigmatic look. "So maybe I am."

He glared at her. She smiled. He sighed.

"Fine," said Ron, looking up at the ceiling again. It was easier that way. "Fine, I kissed her. Three times, too."

Ginny didn't say anything. After a while, when Ron had gathered the guts to look at her, she was simply grinning. He rolled his eyes.

"You are _so_ red," said Ginny relevantly, a few seconds later.

"Shut up," he said half-heartedly, looking away from her.

"Oh, Ron, but it's cute," she said. "I bet Hermione would love to see that you're blushing like this over her."

Ron ignored her, or at least tried to – he was sure that by now he must be purple.

"Could you please admit now that you already knew?"

Ginny smiled. "I didn't know you had kissed her _three_ times."

Ron wished she hadn't said it so loudly, because the next thing he heard made him freeze on the spot:

"George, mate, will you look at that! Our little brother's getting more action than you are!"

"Blimey, seems like he is. Never thought I'd see the day..."

Ron sat up abruptly. "Please tell me Fred and George did not just walk through that door," he whispered to Ginny, through clenched teeth.

"I could tell you that," Ginny whispered back, "but it wouldn't make it true."

He groaned. "Oh, kill me. Kill me now."

Ginny patted his shoulder in what was probably supposed to be a comforting action – although it only annoyed him – and looked up at their brothers. "Hi Fred! Hi George!"

"Go away, Fred, George," said Ron.

The twins promptly ignored him. "What happened to your hand?"

"Nothing," said Ron shortly.

"You know that vial thingy you two gave me? He smashed it," said Ginny.

"Oh, Ron, it took us two days to make that," said George, shaking his head.

"Didn't Mum tell you that you should always try not to break cutting glass with your bare hand?

"And leave the toilet seat down?"

"Oh, you see, that's because I was telling him about--"

"Shut up, Ginny," interrupted Ron. He couldn't begin to imagine how awful it would be for Fred and George to know the reason for his tiny lack of self-control.

"You know, it gets tiring to have you telling me to shut up all the time. You, and them, too," she pointed at the twins, who raised their hands, as if claiming innocence. "Always! It's amazing, really! It's because I'm a girl, isn't it? That's why you gang up on me! You gang up on me, as if you have the right to--"

"_Shut up, Ginny_," said Ron, Fred, and George at the same time, and then grinned at each other. Well, Fred and George did, anyway.

Ginny crossed her arms. "See?"

The twins looked at one another.

"Don't you have a class or something to go to now, Ginny?" asked George.

She looked at her watch. "Oh, damn, I do. I'm late." She stood up from her chair and then looked at the twins. "Don't _you_ two have to go to class too?"

Fred and George gave her blank looks.

"Yeah," said Fred, "so what?"

"This is too good to pass up," said George, indicating Ron. Ron scowled.

"And what's one more little detention?" said Fred.

"Fred and I have four this week already..."

"Actually, I have five."

"Oh, yeah, the McGonagall thing! How could I forget that!"

"What McGonagall thing?" asked Ginny, sitting down again, eyes glistening.

"Yeah, well, McGonagall decided to make Angelina and I serve detention together last week," said Fred.

"_Why _she did such a foolish thing remains one of the great mysteries of humankind," said George.

"And, erm, when she came to tell us that our detention was over and we could go back to the tower, we weren't exactly working, if you know what I mean."

Ron and Ginny made disgusted faces. George laughed at them.

"And I think it's safe to say Fred and Angelina will _never_ be serving detention together ever again!" said George.

"Oh my God, I wish I could have seen the _look_ on McGonagall's face," said Ginny, who was giggling by now.

"It was priceless!" said Fred. "And she thinks I didn't notice, but she was watching us for quite a while before clearing her throat to get our attention..."

"Maybe she was just shocked!" said Ginny, scandalized.

"Oh, I bet old Minerva must have been fascinated... she's probably forgotten what that's like by now," said George flippantly.

Ron turned away to hide a smile. Just imagining the _look_ on Hermione's face, had she been here to witness this conversation about her favorite teacher... it almost got him in a good mood.

"And you saw that she had arrived there and you didn't stop?" Ginny said.

"Nah, she seemed entertained." Fred grinned, his nose wrinkling up. "I'm all for entertaining my dearest professor."

"You're _awful_," said Ginny, failing to sound reproachful as a giggle escaped her. She stood up once more. "Right. I really need to go."

"Don't leave me alone with them!!" said Ron desperately.

"Oh, sorry, Ron. I need to go to class. _I_ don't like detention." She turned to the twins. "Are you _sure_ you're not going?"

They nodded.

"What about your N.E.W.T.s?"

"What _about_ our N.E.W.T.s, Mum?"

Ginny regarded the two of them for a moment and then left, shaking her head. Fred and George turned to Ron with identical evil grins and leaned towards him on their chairs.

"So, Ron..."

"Sod off."

The twins sat back straight at once.

"He seems grumpy today, doesn't he, Fred?"

"Definitely so, George." 

"What's the matter, Ron? Why are you no fun today?" asked George, turning to him. "Afraid Krum'll play Quidditch with your eyeballs or something?"

Damn Ginny for all eternity for being so loud.

"I would, if I knew you were getting it on with _my _girlf--"

"I don't give a damn about that Bulgarian git," snapped Ron.

But that wasn't entirely true. Just yesterday, before that whole mess happened, a sturdy brown owl had arrived for Hermione while she was in her prefects' meeting. From bloody Bulgaria. Ron had taken one look at the sender's name and felt sick. It was disgusting, really, that Krum was still trying to act chummy to Hermione after having been such a sodding bastard. The least he could have done was have the decency to never show signs of being alive ever again.

Ron had read the first few sentences in such a rush that the words had barely registered.

_Dear Hermione, _

_Samira told me about the letter she has sent you. I am sure it must have seemed terrible to you, and I am sorry. Please believe that she did not know the whole story, and if you would just let me explain—_

Ron hadn't got past that. He couldn't. He did _not_, by any means, want to hear the whole story. He was sick of that story and he was _sick_ of Krum.

So, even though he knew Hermione would hate him if she ever found out, Ron did the best thing for all  - he'd thrown the letter in the fire and sent Krum the appropriate reply himself:

            _Dearest Vicky,_

_            Rot in hell._

_            Not so cordially,_

_                        Ron Weasley_

He'd returned from the Owlery and was told of Seamus and Lavender's loud break-up, and from then on, the events of the evening had completely washed Bloody Krum away from his mind. 

So it was plain to see that - in an admittedly very subjective way - he _didn't_ care about the git, really.           

"You don't?" said George, raising an eyebrow. "So what's the problem?"

"What the hell do you _think_ is the problem?"

"Besides Krum? I've no idea. George?"

"Er... you're gay?"

"NO! Please, I thought you were smarter than that. I mean, the two of you together have almost a whole brain!"

The twins looked offended for the whole of four seconds.

"Right," said Fred, shrugging it off. "So you had a few snogging sessions with a girl who's quite pretty. Tell us why that's a bad thing."

"She's not a 'girl who's quite pretty'!! She's Hermione! _Hermione_!"

"Wait, so the bad thing about kissing Hermione is that she's Hermione?" said Fred, his eyebrows knitting together.

"What if she changed her name?" suggested George.

Ron glared at them.

"What I mean is that she's Hermione, you know? As in that bookish, bossy, stubborn, barking _mad_ girl who's my _best friend_."

The twins blinked, and then stared at him.

"_That_'s your problem?" said George, after a stunned moment of silence.

"Ron, if that's the issue... well, that's not an issue at all," said Fred, sounding flabbergasted.

"It's definitely not," said George. "There's nothing wrong with a little kissing between friends. It's quite nice, actually."

"And he speaks from experience."

"Aww, I don't feel comfortable talking about that..." said George, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Fred winked at Ron. "You see, Ron, how much of a _gentleman_ my twin is?" He nudged George. "You liar."

George grinned. "Oh, were just trying to put on my Thoughtful and Respectful act! I was doing well! Anyway, really, Alicia doesn't mind me telling people."

"Alicia? You mean you and _Alicia_...?"

George shrugged. "Once or twice."

"Or three, or four times..." said Fred innocently.

"Well, I never counted. But Ron, the thing is, Alicia's great. She's smart, funny, good-looking, likes Quidditch, and I'm telling you, she's a hell of a good kisser. Everything I look for in a girlfriend. It's just that the sparks... they aren't there. And we've _looked_ for them, about five or six times..."

"Or seven, or eight..." said Fred, grinning.

"... and nope, not there. We didn't even consider starting a relationship, because frankly, the very idea is ridiculous. She's my friend, and that's that."

"Erm, fine, do you have a point?"

"My point, little brother," said George, grinning, "is that kissing is very nice." 

Ron rolled his eyes. He already knew _that_.

"And healthy," chipped in Fred.

"And _fun._"

"You bet."

"And, Ron... if you think some kissing will make Hermione stop being your best friend or something... well, really, it's not the kissing that ruins friendships," said George, his tone actually serious. "It's the feelings."

"And trust him, he's had _that_ experience too," said Fred, with a pointed look at his twin. "Right, George?"

George glared at him.

"I think that's enough of the 'let's-tell-all-the-embarrassing-details-of-George's-life' show."

"Aww, but we didn't even get started on Miss Eyelashes From Hell..."

"Well, what about Miss No-Those-Aren't-Quaffles-Under-My-Shirt, hmm, Fred?"

Fred's eyes widened. "Oh. That was embarrassing."

"I _know_," said George, with a devious smile. "What were you saying about me, again?"

"Uh, that you're just a sexy thing?" said Fred.

"Why, Fred, thank you."

"So let's just embarrass Ron instead, how about that?"

"Oh, deal."

"Deal, then."

They shook hands.

"I'm _listening_, you know," said Ron grumpily.

"Yeah, sure," said George with a casual wave of his hand. "So what was I talking about again?"

"About feelings and stuff," said Fred.

"Oh, about how physical actions are only an issue when they're actually an expression of deeper, emotional intentions?"

"I don't know, this philosophical stuff make me dizzy," said Fred.

"Me too, that's the fun of it."

"True, but... You know what's really fun? Here, let me..." He straightened up in his seat, turned to Ron, and cleared his throat. "Ron, dear brother, you see, you're panicking about exchanging saliva with Hermione because you know you want to have your babies with her."

"_What?_ Ouch!" Ron gestured so violently that he hit his injured hand on the bedside table. "_Damn!_"

The twins stared at him unblinkingly for a while, and then turned to each other.

"See, Fred, now you just freaked the poor boy out," said George.

"I know," said Fred, "and isn't it a _lot_ more fun?" 

George glanced at Ron, who was still muttering obscenities. "Yeah, you're right."

"You need help with that hand, Ron?" said Fred, after a few seconds.

Ron stopped swearing and glared at him. "I just need you two to shut the hell up."

"Ah. So I take it Hermione's in love with you."

Ron blinked, and then he processed what Fred's completely out-of-the-blue statement was and felt himself going scarlet.

"That's – uh – how – I mean, erm, no. No, she... er, she's not."

His brothers raised their eyebrows.

"Did that convince you, Fred?"

"Not even a little bit, George. Didn't she tell you yesterday, Ron?"

"_How_—" started Ron, then shook his head. "What makes you think she... what makes you think _that_?"

"Well, it _was_ all over breakfast today."

"Yeah, why do you think we came here?"

"To tell Harry the gossip, of course. Too bad he's asleep."

"Oh, nah, this is loads better."

But Ron's brain hadn't recorded anything after the Fred's first sentence:

"All... all over breakfast?" he said feebly. He was starting to feel _really_ sick.

"Why, Ron, yes! Didn't you know that?" said George.

Ron shook his head with the little strength he had left.

"You must have been already here when it started spreading..." 

"Well, can I just give you a piece of advice? Don't tell stuff to Dean," said Fred.

"But I didn't – I didn't tell Dean anything."

"Well, don't do it. Ever. I think the boy feeds off gossip."

"As opposed to you two, who keep all kinds of secrets?"

Fred and George looked at each other.

"We can keep secrets," said George.

"Of course we can!" said Fred. "I haven't told you about the time George got his arse kicked by a girl, have I?"

Ron snorted.

George glared at Fred. "No, and I haven't told you about the time Millicent Bullstrode grabbed Fred's—"

"_Hey_!" 

"—and he _enjoyed _it!"

Ron was now having a very bad case of sniggering.

"You shut it, or I'll tell Ron about how last week—"

Gasp. "You _wouldn't_!"

"Erm..." said Ron, after getting control of himself. "How did Dean find out about it?" He cursed himself for sounding so vulnerable.

Fred and George stopped glaring at each other, and turned to Ron.

"About wha—oh. That," said Fred. 

"Does it really matter?" asked George.

The two seemed to have completely forgotten about their argument. It pained Ron to have drawn their attentions away from it – this conversation was giving him lots of blackmail material.

"No, I suppose it doesn't..." said Ron. "I'll just have to kill Dean, that's all."

"The only thing that matter is that now we know Hermione really does fancy our little brother!"

"Actually..." said Ron slowly, his ears volcanic-hot. "No, you don't know that."

"Well, she told you, didn't she?" said Fred.

"Erm, yeah, she yelled something around those lines to me, yes." The heat was spreading to his face. 

"Some people really have bad taste," Fred said.

"Well, maybe she's attracted to Ron's dashing tomato-look," said George, pinching Ron's ears.

Ron knocked his hand away. "_But_ she also forced me to go on a date with some Ravenclaw today."

The twins exchanged looks.

"He has a good point," said George. "Women are bloody confusing."

"Hermione's not _confusing,_" said Ron, throwing himself on his back on the bed. "She's completely barking mad." 

"Was the Ravenclaw good-looking?"

"Well, yeah," said Ron, surprised to feel his reluctance to talk to the twins fading a little. "She has violet eyes, can you believe that? _Violet eyes_, I mean... bloody hell."

"Ah, I know who she is!" said George. "Friends with Padma Patil, right? The girl's bloody gorgeous."

"I think you should go for it," said Fred suddenly.

Both Ron and George gave him weird looks.

"What? I'm serious. Didn't even _Hermione_ want him to go out with her? And besides, aren't Hermione and Krum—"

"No, they're not together. Haven't been for a month now."

"_Oh_," said Fred.

"Now _that_'s interesting." 

"Why did they break up?"

"Well, I'm not sure if she'd like me to tell it around..." said Ron slowly.

The twins stared at him.

"Wait, you're _serious_?" said Fred after a pause.

"Well, yeah, I mean, it's her life and--"

Fred smirked. "Right, I was out of my mind, forget about the Ravenclaw," he declared.

"What?" said Ron puzzledly.

George exchanged another look with Fred and then turned to Ron, also smirking. Ron was getting uncomfortable again.

"Ron, you know, not sharing juicy information about a girl is one of the Clearly Obvious Signs That You've Got It Bad."

"Or it can be common politeness," said Fred, "but, you know, it's _you_."

And just when he thought that maybe he'd be able to return to his natural color.

"Hey, I can – I can be polite!" he said lamely.

"Yeah, duh," said Fred. "We were watching you during the Yule Ball, you know."

"Actually, _I_ was watching you. Fred was too busy with Angelina."

"And weren't you busy, Georgie?" asked Fred.

"Not while Ron was making a scene, I wasn't," said George. "Thankfully."

"Gah, I can't believe I missed it," said Fred. "If I'd seen it, I'd probably be as much of a Viktor Krum fan as George is now."

"What?" said Ron, sitting up abruptly. "A Viktor _Buggering _Krum—" 

"Fan, yeah," said George, grinning. "I figured that anyone who makes my little brother make a prat of himself deserves my full admiration. Although it's really not hard at all."

Fred gasped. "George! Don't talk like that! Our brother deserves some respect!"

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then burst out laughing hysterically.

"Oh, good one, Fred," said George, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

Ron rolled his eyes.

~o~

Hermione had always thought she could handle being the subject of rumors - she _had_, after all, dealt brilliantly with the whisperings about her and Harry the year before. It turned out, however, that the situation became a bit more upsetting when the rumors were true.

She promised to herself that she'd hex the next person who stared at her pityingly - that person turned out to be Dennis Creevey, though, so she had to change her mind. She'd been hoping it would at least be a Slytherin, but Slytherins, of course, were far from feeling anything resembling pity, delighted as they were about the whole situation, and Hermione knew that was something of a good thing; she was too drained to hex anyone, anyway.

"Hermione?"

"_What?_" she snapped, and only then looked up. "Oh, Ginny. Hi. Sorry."

"It's okay," said Ginny softly. 

_Oh, God, no, not the pitying look_... Or was it sympathetic? Hermione hadn't been able to tell the difference lately. She avoided Ginny's eyes anyway.

"Sit down."

Ginny sat. She remained in silence, looking at her hands, and after a while said, "Can I talk to you?"

"You can talk all you want."

"Oh, and will you answer?"

"Erm... that depends."

"Oh," said Ginny, and fell silent again. "So, uh... what's that essay for?"

"Arithmancy."

"Ah..."

"You've heard about it, too, then?" said Hermione briskly. She might as well start the talk Ginny obviously wanted to have, and get it over with.

"It? When you say 'it', you mean... it?"

Hermione gave a short laugh in spite of herself, but her amusement died quickly. She nodded.

"Oh. Yeah, I... I have heard about it."

"Obviously," said Hermione under her breath.

"But I didn't hear it from as many different people as you think," said Ginny.

"Who talked to you about it, then?"

"Dean, and... Colin, Mandy... and... well, Ron, but -- but I figured it out," she added quickly at the look on Hermione's face. "I figured it out at breakfast -- from what you said, you know, before you stormed out. He didn't... offer the information, or anything. I practically bullied him into it, he... I mean, he..."

"Where is he?" interrupted Hermione, not bothering to try to act aloof; there was no point in pretending not to care, now. "He wasn't in our Transfiguration class... and he even missed lunch."

"I... uh, haven't seen him since before I went to Charms..."

"Erm, excuse me... Hi," said a new female voice Hermione didn't recognize. "Hermione Granger, right?"

Hermione looked up at a pretty girl, who was looking at her with anxious eyes. 

Anxious, very _violet_ eyes.

Hermione couldn't help hearing Ron's voice in her head (_"Wow, how come I never noticed _that_ girl before?") _as she willed herself to stop staring at Dean's girlfriend's friend and say something.

"Yes, um... yes, that's me, I'm Hermione Granger."

"You probably don't know me, but I... I wanted to... erm, I mean..." She smiled sheepishly at her own incoherence and shook her head. "Look, Lisa told me that Padma told her that... You're friends with Padma's sister, aren't you?"

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who couldn't have looked more uncomfortable if she tried.

"Yes, I... I suppose you could consider Parvati my friend, in a way." 

"Well, because she... is it true that you..."

"No," said Hermione firmly. She didn't think she could handle hearing the next words from the girl's pouty full lips.

"It's not?"

"Hermione..." said Ginny slowly.

Hermione grabbed her arm to silence her.

"Look," continued Lisa's friend, "I can back down, I won't go through with it if you..." 

"No, no, it was a misunderstanding, it just... I mean, it's not true. Not at all."

Ginny rolled her eyes and snatched her arm from Hermione's grip.

The girl smiled. "Oh, I _told_ Lisa it wasn't! I mean, aren't you dating Viktor _Krum_?"

Hermione just looked at the girl by way of answer. She continued looking until the girl started giving signs of feeling self-conscious, and then forced a smile. 

"Ron thinks you're very pretty, you know."

Lisa's friend seemed to relax, then, and giggled. "Really? He told you that?"

"He _certainly_ didn't make any effort to hide it," replied Hermione, some bitterness showing despite her big fake smile. She didn't think the girl noticed.

"Hermione!"

"_What_, Ginny?"

"You... erm, promised to help me with my homework before lunch hour is over."

"Oh, I'm sorry to be disturbing you! I have to go anyway. It was nice to meet you, Hermione! Thank you."

"You're welcome," muttered Hermione as the girl turned away.

"Yes, see you!" said Ginny in mock-cheerfulness, waving frantically until the girl was out of sight. She turned serious at once. "What the hell were you doing, Hermione?"

"Being polite."

"BEING POLITE'? That's what you call it??" Ginny adopted an annoying sugary-sweet voice, "'Oh, hello, I've never met you before, but you should go snog the boy I'm in love with! Isn't that a grand idea? Good, it was nice to meet you! You're very pretty!' For crying out loud, Hermione!" She tried to go back to her normal voice, but it ended up much more high-pitched. "You were being _polite_??"

Hermione winced. 

"First of all, Ginny," she said in as much of a dignified tone as she could, "lower your voice, because I'm getting a headache."

Ginny glared at her. "You know that it's my job, as your friend, to warn you that you're being monumentally st-"

"_Second_, I'd appreciate if you didn't try to lecture me, as this is _my_ life, my business."

"What?" Ginny gave an angry snort. "_You_ are telling _me_ not to give lectures about things that are not my business?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. "_Excuse_ me," she said, sitting up straighter. "I hope you're not insinuating that I--"

"That's exactly what I'm insinuating, Hermione. Actually, I'm saying it outright! You have no right to tell _anyone_ not to be intrusive and bossy - talk about double standards!"

Hermione sputtered indignantly, as Ginny caught her breath and continued.

"I can't believe you even have the _gall_ to tell someone to mind their own business, because I know very well the amount of times you've given Ron a hard time ab--"

"Ron _is_ my business!"

Ginny stopped and just looked at her with that stupid pi-- _sympathetic_ look again. Hermione avoided her eyes, cursing herself for saying that.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Hermione, although she wasn't sure if she meant it.

"No it's not, I was horrible, I'm sorry-- I was just frustrated, didn't want to get you angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Yes, you are." She continued pleadingly, when Hermione didn't answer, "Please forgive me? I wasn't thinking, it's just that... Ron is my business too, you know, and if you think I'd rather have him with that syrupy pretty-girl over you... well, let me just say that I don't want my nephews to suffer, and violet eyes must clash horribly with red hair." ****

Hermione laughed. Ginny smiled at her in a relieved, glad-you-still-like-me way.

"But Ginny," said Hermione slowly, after a moment, "if that's what Ron wants..."

"It's not," said Ginny so firmly that Hermione stared at her a little. "I mean, if you push him away like that and that girl starts making kissy faces at him, he probably won't tell her to sod off, but... she's not what he wants, and you know it."

"He was drooling all over her..." said Hermione lamely.

Ginny chuckled. "It almost seems like you're dragging him to a date with that girl just to get back at him for sounding impressed by her looks."

"What? I am _not_, it was just the right thing to do, I can't stop him from living his life just because I..."

"You can't _force_ him either, Hermione. Damn it, he likes you."

Her heart jumped. "He _told_ you that?"

"Well, not in so many words, no, but--"

Hermione sighed. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

"-- but Hermione, it's _obvious_. You've seen the way he acts, he gets jealous and defensive and all _red_... He fancies you, and any idiot can see it."

"I know," mumbled Hermione.

Ginny made an abrupt movement, and for a moment Hermione thought she would jump off her chair, but all she did was make a lot of noise. 

"You _know_!!" she exclaimed. "I mean, I knew you knew, but I didn't know you knew that you knew, and... oh, I don't even know anymore!" 

Silence.

"So what's the problem?" asked Ginny. "I mean, if you like him, and you know he likes you..."

"Does _he_ know it, Ginny?" asked Hermione, looking up at her.

"Well... I mean, even if he doesn't admit it to himself..."

"And why won't he admit it to himself? Really, I mean, fine, so he unconsciously fancies me, so what? Rationally, he won't admit it. Why?"

Ginny just looked at her for a few seconds, then replied quietly, "I don't know, probably because he sees you as his friend..."

"Yes, probably," said Hermione. "I'm his chum, aren't I, who can't possibly be seen this way? Tell me, what kind of consolation is it to know that he likes me, when by the way he acts, I can only suppose that consciously, the very thought is appalling to him? He likes me against all his better judgment, fine. Is that supposed to make me happy?"

Ginny looked at her with her mouth half-open and her brows slightly furrowed, at a loss for words. Hermione felt strangely relieved to be finally voicing all the thoughts that had been torturing her in all this time of overanalyzing.

"I just... Ginny, sometimes I think he should fall for someone who is... I don't know, _good_ enough for him to acknowledge his feelings. Because I... oh, I won't ever be able to get over him while he still likes me, and obviously nothing will come out of it unless he admits it... and I'm afraid, Ginny, I'm so afraid that I'll spend the rest of my life like this. This is hell."

Ginny was silent for a few moments, after which she said shakily, "Oh, Hermione!" then stood up and flung her arms around her.

~o~

Ron glanced at his watch. Lunchtime was almost over, and he was still stuck in the hospital wing with the twins. 

George wasn't so bad. He was sitting by his Seeker's bed, staring at him. Harry still hadn't woken up. Fred, unfortunately, wasn't being as cooperative. He was sprawled on the bed next to Ron's, talking - Ron was too hungry to pay him any attention. 

Well, all right, so he was paying a little attention.

Just a little.

"... it's not so bad, really, dating your best friend, Ron. In fact, I'm sure it must be great."

Ron snorted. "I doubt it."

Fred and George's let's-humiliate-our-little-brother act had somehow turned into an let's-advise-our-little-brother act. Ron was surprised to notice that he felt a lot more at ease when they were at mode two, and that, as "the experienced older brothers", they were even bearable, somewhat. 

"Okay, I understand why it might not seem that wonderful a prospect for you, since, well, if you date Hermione she'll boss you around a lot more. And there'll be no mystery at all involved, since you already know everything about each other."

"Harry'll feel left out, too," said George from across the room.

"True," said Fred. "And you'll only have two options, to marry her and lose your youth, or break up with her and risk ruining your friendship forever."

The weight of Fred's words still hung heavily in the air when he sat up on the bed and added: "Oh, yes, and we'd tease you."

"But that we would anyway," said George, without turning to them.****

Ron didn't know what to reply to that, so he didn't.

"I know what you're thinking," said Fred after a pregnant pause, patting Ron on the arm. 

Ron looked at him. That was hard to believe, considering he himself didn't have a clue about what his thoughts were. 

"You're thinking that it's a very bad idea," continued Fred. "You're thinking that you'd be risking too much. You're thinking it's too much trouble, aren't you?"

Ron gave him a surprised look. That did ring true.

Fred smiled. "But you know, it really isn't. You see –" he started, but then closed his mouth, and opened it again, closed it, and a moment later opened it again to call out: "George, get your buttocks over here!"

George crossed the room in what seemed like a quarter-second. "Yes?"

Fred stood up with a flourish and patted George on the shoulder. "You see, Ron, George here will tell you all the advantages of dating one's best friend."

George gave Fred a wide-eyed look, then looked at Ron. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then closed it and a few seconds opened it once more to say, "Well, it's... uh, easier to hide the fact that you're together, because, you see, you're always seen in each other's company anyway..."

"But Ron can't really do that, can he? The whole school already knows."

"Oh, true. Well – you'll be allowed to snog her anytime you want and... uh, Fred, help me, I'm drawing a blank. How am _I_ supposed to know that, anyway?"

"Well... you did better than I expected, actually, George."

"Right. Uh. I'm... erm, _sure_ that there must be lots of advantages about dating your best friend."

"Tons!" said Fred in a very forced cheerful tone.

Ron glared at him.

"... we're not helping, are we?"

Ron said that they really weren't, but it was drowned out by a very high-pitched female voice from the entrance:

"Ron, you great big _prat_, go over to Hermione _now_ and tell her how you feel about her!"

Ron raised his eyebrows at the twins and turned to their sister. He would have felt embarrassed by that if he hadn't just spent the last two hours with the twins. 

"Hello, Ginny, how was your Charms class?" he said, ignoring Ginny's outburst. 

"Fred, George, you're still here? Didn't you have _lunch_?" said Ginny, ignoring Ron's question.

"Ginny, please, _you_ can find some advantages about dating one's best friend, can't you?" said Fred, ignoring Ginny's inquiry.

"Advantages of dating one's... is this about Hermione?" said Ginny, walking over to her brothers. "Because if it is, honestly, I really can't see what on earth would be a disadvantage about Ron dating her."

"Well—"

"And you _don't_ need to enlighten me, George," interrupted Ginny. She turned to Ron. "Come on, Ron, do you _want_ to date her? That's all that really matters, you know."

Ron looked down at his hands. _Did _he want to date her? That was a very hard question, and even though he _knew_ now that he liked her, there was something that made him not want to do anything about it. Ever.

"He's afraid of losing her, Ginny," said Fred, jumping from the bed he was in.

Ron gave him a startled look.

Fred patted him on the shoulder. "Aren't you?"

Ginny sat at the foot of his bed and patted his leg. Why were his siblings all patting him?

"Ron, that's... well, not unfounded, but... well, I think the damage's already done, isn't it?" said Ginny. "Things between you and Hermione can't get much worse than it's been these last few weeks, can they?"

"Well--"

"Shut it, George," she snapped, then turned to Ron and softened. "Look... I just think that what you two have might be worth it, that's all."

George joined in the patting as Ron felt his ears grow hot. 

Fine - so maybe he kind of thought so, too.


End file.
